Insanity is But a Word
by Fanatifan
Summary: Harry faces many terrible things by the time he finished his fifth year. What if his sanity had snapped after all he went through, and he held a grudge against the world? But's who's to say what is or isn't sane? Spoilers up to OotP. Harry/Bellatrix
1. Prologue

Harry Potter, other characters and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling not me. Other recognizable characters also do not belong to me, and I do not claim ownership of them. I'm just playing around in a world created by others.

**AN: This prologue doesn't begin the storyline. It sets the stage and is written in a different style from the rest of the story. If you don't like it, bear with me. It's necessary. Also, this story contains a grey Harry, mentions of child abuse, graphic fight scenes, bad language, self-destructive behavior, torture and many character deaths. You have been warned.**

Harry Potter was experiencing something no child six years old should ever have to truly suffer: despair. At the tender age of six, Harry was losing hope. Even two years earlier when he was four, Harry realized that his relatives didn't love him. It was almost painfully obvious, even to a young child that didn't fully understand the concept of a loving family. His whale of a cousin got whatever he wanted, and Harry got nothing. Dudley was doted on by his damned aunt and uncle, and Harry was little better than a slave.

Cooking, cleaning, gardening, odd jobs around the house, he did it all. The Dursleys couldn't be bothered and they had a freak to do it for them anyway. It was free labor. All they had to do was keep the boy alive by feeding him the bare minimum and allowing him to sleep in the smallest spare space they had. It was only a matter of time until it went wrong though. The boy was unnatural, and they knew it. Petunia Dursley, the boy's aunt, had told her husband, Vernon, all about the boy's freak mother. It was only a manner of time before signs of his unnaturalness manifested. They couldn't have that. They were normal, damn it. Normal! Magic didn't exist. They would abuse the boy and stop him from growing into his freakishness. It was the only way. It was official. Mr. and Mrs. Dursley would abuse their own nephew as much as possible.

They wouldn't go too far of course. Some things just weren't done. True physical abuse would lead to uncomfortable questions and would damage their reputations. Occasional beatings and casual blows would work fine. Vernon wasn't creative enough or vindictive enough for any form of sexual abuse, so young Harry was saved from that fate. However, neglect, malnourishment and emotional torment were daily occurrences at number 4 Privet Drive. Harry was skin and bones, didn't expect anyone to ever care for him and had long ago learned to hide all his emotions from his relatives. He also hid from anyone he didn't think he could trust, which at the moment was everyone. By the time he was six, Harry had mostly accepted this.

When he began to understand just how strange his life was, Harry tried to find a way out. He searched tirelessly for a way to escape, somewhere to run, a plan to change how he was treated. Eventually, he came to the conclusion that he couldn't get away. He wasn't old enough or smart enough to run away and survive. He wasn't big enough or strong enough to fight back. No one would take his word over the Dursleys. One day when he was six, the answer came to him and with it came the crushing despair. He would have to suffer through the Dursleys, and hide himself from them until he could escape.

Harry had come home happy that day. He had done well on a test in school, and hoped that this would finally win him some of his relatives' affection. Little did he know just how wrong he was. Dudley had done horribly on the test, and there was no crime greater for Harry than besting his cousin. Vernon had flown into a towering rage and beaten Harry. He was careful not to break any of the boy's bones or permanently injure him, but the beating was still harsh. That's when Harry made his second mistake. He had taken beatings like this before. He decided to stand up to his uncle and show that Vernon couldn't really hurt him. The courage he showed was immense, but it wasn't the time for such a display. Seeing the freak's rebellion, Vernon ripped off his belt and the boy's shirt. The boy wouldn't cower before his fists? Vernon would test how well the boy would stand up against the buckle of his belt. The boy's back would never show in public anyway. The buckle dug cruelly into his nephew's six year old back, and while his nephew screamed and cried, Vernon allowed himself a smile. The boy wouldn't stand up against them so soon now.

That night, the young boy lay bleeding in the cramped cupboard under the stairs and wept in pain and distress. The abuse had left him frighteningly thin and fairly short for his age. His perpetually tousled black hair fell in his eyes, and concealed the small lightning bolt scar on his forehead. The eyes were the important part. They were bright emerald green, and should have held all the intensity and life that his thoughts and personality held. Instead, his eyes were dull and blank. If you didn't look closely, you might almost say they were lifeless. Harry was an ambitious and intelligent child. He wanted to survive and make something out of himself. A cunning plan began to form as he sat there bleeding and weeping. Harry could and would endure the casual beatings that he had received for so many years, but beatings like the one that he had received today were to be avoided at all costs. He would hide his talents, personality and emotion until he could get away. And with the adoption of this plan, Harry Potter gave up hope and committed himself to enduring.

At the same time, Vernon decided that the freak was becoming too strong willed. They obviously hadn't beaten him down enough. Beatings like tonight's would have to become more routine. The boy must be broken, besides the beatings were fun. He might even have to get Dudley to bully the freak to help in the process.

Both of the schemers missed one key fact. When all hope is lost and conventional reactions just aren't enough, some people had the willpower and ability to change the world around them to suit their needs. The world would conform to them, almost as if by magic. And Harry Potter had just lost the last of his hope. He was now truly desperate.

The magic could only work within Harry's will, and his plan stopped it from showing itself plainly by defending him and attacking the Dursleys. It could still help him in many ways, but they were limited and kept secret. Over the next four and a half years, Harry gained more control of his power, while facing increasing abuse from all sides. His uncle stepped up the beatings, his teachers thought Harry was lazy because he went out of his way not to best Dudley, Dudley and his friends chased and beat Harry and anyone that associated with him and the neighborhood thought Harry was a delinquent. Magic helped him compensate. He was able to heal most of the beatings, although most of the bigger injuries were beyond his abilities, he healed the minor cuts and bruises. One day, Harry was running from Dudley's gang and teleported himself to the top of the school. This skill was developed until he could control it, which gave him access to the library and precious knowledge. Harry learned to generate light, unlock doors and even the ability to sense when someone was thinking about him in his presence. His survival instincts and some physical abilities also grew. The skill to walk utterly silently was invaluable for avoiding his relatives. Manually picking locks gave him a better idea of how to do so magically. Harry learned to read body language and subtle signals that people gave off about their moods and intentions. His sense of when he was in danger became incredibly acute. Most importantly, he learned to run. Dudley's gang had numbers, but Harry had speed and endurance.

And so, Harry Potter was a strange young man when he received his Hogwarts letter the summer he was going to turn eleven. He was more skilled in magic than most of his classmates would be, but knew far less about magic and the theory behind it. Harry was also solitary by nature, but actually had no friends or even any close acquaintances, because Dudley bullied anyone that went near him. In addition, he had the physical skills he had developed and his rather eclectic education. Harry had studied far enough ahead for his education to be comparable to a young man that was going into high school. In addition, he had researched whatever topics caught his attention at the library, when he escaped from his relatives at night. Martial arts, fighting with weapons, languages, foreign cultures, mythology and the Medieval Age were all researched, most of the information was memorized, and Harry moved on. He was never able to properly work out, train himself to fight or speak the languages fluently, but that didn't bother him. He remembered enough to do that later. Besides, he was finally free of the Dursleys! He could leave this hellhole and learn magic. Harry left his relatives home with a light heart.

Harry arrived at Hogwarts and looked forward to finally learning about his strange power. The next five years would be the best of his life, but would also contain the worst moments he had ever experienced. The first sign that Harry's Hogwarts experience wouldn't be normal came as soon as the Sorting Hat was placed on his head.

_You certainly are a unique individual aren't you?_ It had said in his mind.

_I am what I have to be. _Harry thought back. _Except a Slytherin. I am not one of them._

_You would do well there. You are deeply ambitious and would quickly become a leader among them. _the Hat responded.

_Ambition is useful no matter where I go, and if I am a leader, leadership will surface regardless of who I lead. That doesn't place me in the serpents' den. _Harry reasoned.

_Agreed. You have immense courage as well. You'd be accepted in Gryffindor. You'd do well in any House for that matter. Your thirst for intelligence eclipses your ambition and rivals your cunning. You have no loyalty, but when you finally make friends, you'll be more loyal than most Hufflepuffs ever will be. One trait overpowers the others, I think. I will leave you with some parting advice. Always balance your bravery with your cunning and use that intellect of yours to make it all work. _"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry made sure to take the Hat's advice to heart, and would forever remember that moment as his true introduction to his unconventional life as a wizard. Despite the fact that this was a new start for Harry, he refused to share his secret skills with the other students. It was always better to have an ace in the hole, if he ever needed one. Harry also began to work on even more secret skills. Hogwarts was full of empty rooms and passageways. It was child's play for someone of his skill to sneak out for a little while each night to train. He used his knowledge of martial arts and weapons to begin his training, and later, the library provided material on all manner of subjects with which to expand his knowledge farther. The trees around the grounds provided sturdy wood to fashion into practice weapons, and he could use anything he found as a practice dummy. Harry also became much more familiar with his magic in this time.

Lessons in spells and magic theory had given him an astonishing amount of ideas of all the ways he could use magic. The theory behind the magic was probably the most interesting subject he researched. He could feel his magical core. He had always been able to, despite the fact that many wizards couldn't. When casting a spell, he could feel his magic respond, but the interaction between magic and wand puzzled him. The flow of magic was like a block or sphere that was moving forward at a moderate pace. When the magic hit the wand, it was compressed into the shape of a spell, and any power that wasn't compressed was used to propel the magical projectile forward. The magic inside of him was controlled entirely by his intent, and the wand acted like the barrel of a gun to help him aim the spell. The incantation seemed to be almost completely useless. The only purpose it served was to voice his intent. In most wizards, the use of the incantation made their intent obvious, which boosted their willpower and the spell's power. Harry didn't need the incantation, because he had completely control over his will. In fact, if he could learn to force his will into his magic and change its shape, he should be able to cast wandlessly. The willpower that such a task required was immense, but Harry committed himself to work on it. A wand could be stolen or broken. It was a weakness that he couldn't afford.

For the next five years, Harry trained whenever he could get away without it being suspicious. He trained physically, mentally and magically. He pushed his body to the limits. In return, he became more fit, stronger and healthier. Harry forced himself to do the same with his magic, which grew in much the same way his muscles did. Nutrition became important to him, and he ate to make himself stronger and healthier. All his training paid off in his fourth year, when all his knowledge and ability allowed him to survive the Triwizard Tournament. It was that same tournament that would lead to the resurrection of his parents' murderer. The return of Voldemort would only serve to enhance Harry's drive to train. The training would reach a whole new level of intensity in Harry's fifth year. The DA meetings gave Harry an excuse to research even more magic, and he used every minute he could get to learn more combat magic. There was still no one that knew about his training sessions, and now no one would ever have the chance to find out. With the introduction of the Room of Requirement, Harry had found the perfect training environment. He had sophisticated training dummies for his martial arts training, and the room could generate whatever weapons he wanted. Everything except for a sword that is. After a month of wondering why no sword would appear, Harry finally asked the room to show him why it couldn't help him. The room gave him a book called _Swords and their Warriors_. The book was about magical weapons with the ability to bond to their true wielder. The sword of Gryffindor was one such sword, and following the method in the book Harry could someone it with a thought. Training wasn't the only thing that Hogwarts provided Harry though.

For the first time in his life, Harry had friends. Maybe there were only two of them that were really close, and maybe one did routinely abandon him or fly into jealous rages, but he loved Ron and Hermione. They were the only two close friends that he had ever had, but even they didn't know his secret. It didn't matter though, because of them he felt wanted and loved. He had never had that feeling before, and because of that he proved the Sorting Hat right. Harry was unswervingly loyal. And because of the DA he gained more friends. Luna and Neville joined him, while Ginny got over her crush and hero worship. He valued all five of his friends, and would always remain loyal through whatever circumstances may come. The five of them had followed him to the Ministry to try to save Sirius and he would do anything for them. Sirius and the ministry were subjects that Harry didn't want to address, but he knew he had to face them.

Sirius had given Harry more hop than any other single event in his life. Hogwarts had gotten him away from the Dursleys for most of the year, but Sirius could provide even more. Harry would finally be away from the Dursleys forever, and not only that, but Sirius was the loving family figure that Harry had always wanted but never had. Sirius was a link to his parents and also, Harry's entire plan for the future. And then, in a single moment, it was gone. Harry's plans for the future, the man he had grown to love as a fun, crazy uncle and one of the only links to his parents were all gone. Harry blamed himself and it ripped into his conscience. Not only was the guilt overwhelming, but his sanity was teetering on the brink.

The endless paranoia that the Dursleys had instilled in him combined with the trials and losses that Harry had endured at Hogwarts would have long ago driven a lesser man insane. Anyone else would have been a gibbering wreck. Harry would never lose control of his will in such a way, but insanity is a broad condition. Some people's only noticeable insanity was their complete and utter disregard for everything around them, others are obsessive, a few were self-destructive. After losing Sirius, Harry was at the brink. All it would take is one or two good pushes and he would fall into insanity. One such push was unwittingly given by Dumbledore.

The Headmaster should have known better. He shouldn't have manipulated Harry's life the way he did. Dumbledore had dumped Harry with the worst sort of person, after being warned by McGonagall that it was a mistake. He had left Harry to be abused. Later, when Harry joined the wizarding world, he never told Harry about his inheritance, his parents or the prophecy. Harry was never trained by Dumbledore despite the fact that Voldemort was after him. Dumbledore had deliberately manipulated Harry's childhood and made it extremely like Voldemort's, and Harry wasn't ignorant of this. He had investigated after learning Voldemort's name in the Chamber of Secrets. Harry knew that Dumbledore had done all these things, except for the prophecy. He already had plans for small revenge against Dumbledore, but something the magnitude of the prophecy would cause much more trouble with Harry. The revelation infuriated Harry, and he was ready to snap and wreak havoc on everything around him. He even started down that path with the destruction of Dumbledore's office, but he barely retained control and his sanity. He wouldn't forget, however, Dumbledore would pay. It would have to be at another time though, right now he had to take it easy and regain his control. The rest of the term would be about healing and accepting everything that had happened. Despite his best efforts, Harry Potter's control was fragile and one tragedy would shatter it and his sanity forever.


	2. Loony Philosophy

Harry Potter, other characters and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling not me. Other recognizable characters also do not belong to me, and I do not claim ownership of them. I'm just playing around in a world created by others.

"Speech"

"_Thoughts"_

"_**Parseltongue"**_

The Hogwarts grounds were beautiful at dawn. The darkness of the night still cloaked the landscape in silent glory, while the light spread and illuminated each magnificent feature one by one. The sky was a mosaic of purples and oranges, but none of it mattered to Harry Potter. Nothing mattered at the moment. He was so fed up, and Dumbledore's revelations were too much. He didn't care, couldn't care anymore. Couldn't Dumbledore see it? The Headmaster was supposed to be the wisest wizard of the age_. "Is he really so blind?" _Harry thought, as he walked out to the lake after hearing about the prophecy. "_He must realize that I have nothing to live for. There's no reason for me to die trying to kill Snakeface."_

Harry reached his destination, sat down leaning against a boulder that had long since been weathered smooth by winds out near the lake and stared out over the water as dawn broke. _"Going back to the Dursleys might just kill me."_ He fingered the scars on his back as he idly wondered if there was any way he could avoid returning to his relatives. Logically, if he couldn't get away with it last year, then there was no reason he could this year. _"Well if I'm going, I'm going to make them as mad as possible while doing it. There's no way in hell I'm staying there all summer. I'll have to talk to Dean about trading him some Galleons for pounds. I can think of a few things to buy that they'd never want to be associated with."_

Sirius was gone, he was returning to his abusive relatives, Ginny's ankle was broken, Hermione was almost killed, Neville had a broken nose and a broken wand and only the gods knew exactly what had happened to Ron. _"Siriu-No! I have to avoid thinking of him for now. I'll grieve when I can spare the time without being caught or preached at by Hermione or Dumbledore." _Harry's already slumped form seemed to collapse into itself as his shoulders dropped even farther and he hung his head.He had let them all down, and now it turned out that he was in a predestined kill or be killed situation. Murder wasn't something that he had deeply contemplated before, but Harry thought he could manage it. _"Especially in that bastard's case. He killed my parents, killed Cedric and, lured me to the Department of Mysteries, which lured Sirius and that got him killed."_ Voldemort deserved nothing less. His crimes were innumerable, his evil knew no bounds and he had personally caused Harry more anguish than anyone ever deserved. He would die a horrible death if Harry had anything to say about it.

Harry truly didn't care if he died anymore. He could see Sirius again. He could see his parents. The weight that the world had placed on his shoulders would be gone. There would be no obligation to be some twisted sort of savior. Hell, he might just off himself, if it weren't for the fact that he'd be damned if he'd let Voldemort live after everything the so-called Dark Lord had done to him. It was getting later and sunlight now streamed across the grounds. The shadows were still long, and every detail and crevice of the landscape was etched in color and shadow. _"Besides, what do I really have to live for, anyway? I've never had anything to live for and I still have nothing to live for... Well, almost nothing," _he thought as he saw Luna Lovegood's petite form walking across the grounds. The younger Ravenclaw always managed to put a smile on his face. She was a little more than a full head shorter than him and slight, which he found quite attractive as well as her hair, which while some called it stringy, he thought was beautiful. _"Damn hormones. Stop looking at her like that, now's not the time."_ Luna was also brilliant. She was a little strange, but he didn't mind. They all were in one way or another. At the very least, he still had his friends. He raised a hand in greeting, and once he saw her answering smile and wave, he turned back to the lake.

Harry started sinking back into his thoughts, but was interrupted by the feeling of a gentle hug from someone on his right. Despite his history with physical contact, he couldn't even bring himself to react. Normally he would stiffen up and freeze, but he just didn't care enough right now. He didn't care that he was finally giving that physical trust to someone. He cared least of all that she might feel the scars through his clothes "Brooding will only get you so far," Luna said.

"I know. It's just… I can't **not** think about him, you know?" Harry responded without turning to look at Luna who was kneeling next to him. "I failed you all by running off to help Sirius without ever confirming if he was there. And now he's, he's…" Harry's voice dropped to a whisper, and then faded out.

"He's dead," Luna finished "but we're not. **You're **not." Luna shifted he hug to around Harry's neck and hugged tighter. "You have to accept that and move on. It's not as if you'll never see him again."

Harry turned into her hug and hugged the small witch back. It actually wasn't too unpleasant being held like this, despite what his instincts told him about getting close to someone, or giving someone the opportunity to find his secrets. _"How did she know that that was what I was going to say?"_ "Isn't it though?" Harry asked. "He's dead. It's not as if I can contact him somehow."

Luna allowed herself a small smile as he hugged her back. It was good to see him reacting positively instead of trying to shut her out. "You heard them too. There were voices beyond the veil. They're not gone forever. We'll see them again in heaven, the Underworld, the next plane of existence, the afterlife, the next great adventure. Whatever you want to call it, we'll meet them there. Ghosts show us that there is existence after death so we'll see them again. When it's our time, we'll see them." She said with utter conviction, as she broke their hug and sat down next to him instead of kneeling there. She made sure that her left side was completely in contact with his right, from her foot up through her knee to her hip and their sides. Luna's shoulder rested on his chest, while she leaned into him with her head on the bottom of his collarbone, and her arm reached around his back to his far hip. She knew that she was being a little straightforward about his godfather and about the physical contact, but he needed it. He also needed someone to be close to him, and his friends couldn't be the ones to do it. They either nagged too much or played the typical male and didn't want to talk about how he felt.

"_She's thought about this a lot. She must have also lost someone very important to her."_ Harry wrapped his arm around her shoulders and gave her a small squeeze before letting his arm hang over her shoulder and down her side. "Who was the one that you lost?" Harry asked, wondering if she would know what he was asking.

"My mother." She answered simply. "She was a brilliant witch and loved to experiment with spells. One day, the spell she was experimenting with went horribly wrong. I was only nine." Luna pressed herself into him a little more as she remembered that terrible day. "I still cry about it sometimes, but I also still have Dad."

"I'm sorry," Harry said, feeling bad that he ever asked. He reached across and drew her into another hug trying to offer the same comfort that she had given him. They both ended up comforting each other, while they remembered their loved ones.

"Don't be. You had nothing to do with it. Maybe it was just her time." She hugged Harry as hard as she could and buried her head in his shoulder.

"I still brought it up," Harry insisted as his hand began to trace small circles on her back. This situation was almost as awkward as Cho, except for the fact that Luna wasn't crying yet. _Don't make yourself 2 for 2 with Ravenclaws crying all over you Potter._ "I know I hate it when people bring up…"

Luna raised her head and looked sideways at Harry. She was surprisingly composed, but maybe that was just how she was. You never could be sure with Luna. She seemed to have her own emotional turmoil, but it was almost as if she was distracted by something more important. "And we return to the real problem," she whispered, and with those words took back control of the situation. "Grieving is fine Harry. It's necessary. You have to allow yourself to grieve, and then move on. You mentioned it being your fault. That's something that you have to let go of with your grief. Even if it was your fault, acknowledge that fact and move forward." Luna knew exactly what was going through his head, and she would do whatever she could to help him. Harry was just so damned stubborn sometimes.

"_Maybe she's right. Let's face it, you have nothing to lose by taking her suggestions. Look at you, you're pathetic." _Harry heaved a monstrous sigh, and to Luna's infinite surprise dropped his head to her shoulder, and desperately hugged her, grabbing for a lifeline. "Maybe you're right, Luna. It just hurts so much to think of him, when I know it was my fault."

For a few seconds, Luna couldn't even respond. Had Harry just accepted her advice that easily? He must really be run down. There was something she was missing. Something else must be contributing to his mental state, but it wasn't any of her business anyway. Between her surprise at his acceptance, the fact that Harry Potter had hugged someone for this long in the first place, and the fact that she was being almost crushed, Luna was stunned. "Air! Please don't kill me," she finally managed to squeak out with a laugh. Harry immediately blushed and drew back while Luna returned to her position next to him. As soon as he loosened up, she initiated eye contact and made sure he couldn't break it. "That guilt has to go Harry. It doesn't have to be done now, and the grieving will take time. Just promise me that you **will** do it properly. You're annoying when you're brooding like that."

A laugh tore itself out of Harry's throat before he could realize that he was laughing and stopped himself. _"Only she could ever manage that."_ "I promise, Luna." Then, realizing what Luna of all people had just said, he let himself go and starting laughing harder than he had in ages. The laugh was only on the surface of his soul, and Harry had let go of his control. It was too late to take it back. That wonderful joy stayed on Harry's face for only a few seconds, before he was wracked with sobs.

She'd known this was coming, but Luna had still hoped that maybe the happiness would remain. His sorrow was greater than most people could comprehend. He needed this chance to let go of all that had been weighing him down. It had become worse recently, but Harry had gathered these emotions all his life and never gave himself the opportunity to release them. It was no wonder he was so uptight and moody. In a way, it reminded Luna of herself at one point in her life, and if she was right, the conversation would only get more interesting after he exhausted himself. She pushed Harry until he lay down so he would be more comfortable, while she lay down next to him and held him as he cried into her shoulder. Moving to such a position probably wouldn't even occur to someone else, but Luna didn't think by any standard that could be called "normal". The most she could offer him in the way of comfort was to stroke his arm and back, while cooing any soft reassurances that came to mind.

The exhaustion of Harry's anger, pain, torment and some of his grief would take a long time. He wept for it all. His past, his parents, Ginny's tormented first year, injuries his friends had sustained while trying to help him, Sirius' stay at Azkaban and death at the Ministry, Cedric and his future were all included. The thoughts that came to him in the night that he didn't want were all brought to the surface, and the emotions attached to those thoughts flowed through him. Those thoughts in the dark were one of the primary sources of brooding over the years. They were also involuntary.

How many would die to bring down that deranged psychopath? What tortures would Harry endure to bring him down? The Cruciatus was a common aspect of his dreams, as were all the memories and speculations from which he had never purged the strong and violent emotions. Then the thoughts led him to debates he couldn't solve. How many Death Eaters were victims of circumstance? How many were forced to serve because of who their family was or to save their own lives? It wasn't as if Voldemort would hesitate to kill any who offered anything less than total loyalty. How many of his supposed enemies didn't want to fight and wished their "Master" were dead? Was Dumbledore right, and they could be saved? How innocent were they, and if they were considered innocents, how many innocents would he kill? How many innocents would die in battles he caused, regardless of the moral debates of the Death Eaters' positions? Harry wept for it all. Most of all, he wept for the end of the world he thought he knew. He wept for the changes that were coming and the loss of any innocence he had left. That morning by the lake was easily the most cathartic experience of his life.

It was well past noon before any conscious thought entered Harry's mind, and that thought wasn't even a composed thought. It was just an overwhelming feeling. More specifically it was mix of two feelings: overwhelming thanks to the younger girl that seemed to understand him and gave him this opportunity and also a feeling of calm and determination that he had never felt before. Days had been spent thinking about all but those emotional incidents, except for the most recent. Finally letting go of his emotions allowed him to move beyond the experiences and devote himself to the future. _"Thank the gods for Luna. If she ever needs a friend, I'll be there for her. Everyone else in the school has made their judgment, but how much of her do they really see? Luna may be odd and even a little crazy, but insane is pushing it and it's not as if she's psychotic. I'll stand by her forever." _

All these thoughts were silenced by Harry's surprise when he finally looked around. _"Oh fuck! It must be past midday. Everyone's going to be wondering where – Wait… Today's Saturday. We haven't missed any classes and people occasionally miss meals. I chose this spot because it's so secluded. No one will probably panic aside from Hermione, and no one will find us here. Wait, how did Luna find me here? Stupid question. Luna wanders wherever she wants."_

Luna noticed as his tears and sobs began to cease. As he picked up his head and looked around, she said nothing. He would speak when he was ready. What she did do was offer him one of her most serene smiles, and pulled him back up into the sitting position they were in before.

"_Her smile really is nice when she seems like she actually knows what's going on around her." _Instead of saying anything, he just returned her smile with a shaky grin of his own. This situation would probably be incredibly awkward and embarrassing if it weren't for two things. The first of these was that he was emotionally exhausted at this point. That release had probably been the most emotional experience of his life. He wasn't used to letting himself fully experience any powerful painful feelings, let alone an amount of that volume. Feeling mild embarrassment was apparently beyond him at this point. The second and more important reason was that this was Luna. Luna understood, at least partially, what he was going through, and she wouldn't tell anyone who shouldn't know. She also wouldn't judge. Luna knew what is was like to be judged, and she would never do that to anyone. She just accepted people as who they were, whether they be a friend or an enemy. He didn't need to hold himself back around her, and she pushed him to let himself go more than he ever had before. "Thanks, Luna. For everything. I really needed that. It was so much effort to hold myself together all the time, because I could never break down in front of anybody. I spent all that effort trying to hold myself together, that I was hardly able to hold onto my sanity."

"Not only did you refuse to break down in front of anyone else, you refused to break down in front of yourself," Luna said with a small smile. "You wouldn't allow yourself to cry, probably because you thought it made you weak or feminine. Maybe it was because you were afraid of what you felt. Boys can be so stupid sometimes. All you're doing is hurting yourself. Don't bottle yourself up so much Harry. Accept yourself, emotions and all, stretch your wings and fly. Holding back so much of yourself can only be damaging to your interactions with everything around you. And what's wrong with insanity? It's not too bad. Trust me, I would know." No bitterness entered her voice. In fact, Luna seemed on the verge of giggling, but she rarely showed her emotions so Harry couldn't be sure.

Harry couldn't tell if she was doing some emotion retention of her own, but he wasn't going to stand for such labels to be applied to his friend, especially not after what she had just done for him. "You're not insane Luna," Harry said with a small amount of indignation. _"And I'll hex anyone that says differently into oblivion." _"You just believe some unusual things, and you might be a little bit odd. But aren't we all a little odd in our own way?"

It was too much for Luna. She collapsed onto Harry's chest in a fit of giggles. "I appreciate the thought Harry, I really do," Luna managed to say between her frequent burst of giggles. "But there's no need. I almost take it as a compliment at this point. What does insane really mean anyway? It's not as if they say I'm psychotic or dangerous."

All that Luna received in return was a puzzled stare. _"What does she mean? No one wants be insane. If you're insane, you're not in your right mind. You're not rational. Right?" _Harry's curiosity got the better of him."What does it mean Luna?" As soon as he asked, Luna gave him a dazzling smile. Possibly the first smile he'd ever seen from her that came purely from her being happy. What was with Luna? This wasn't the absent-minded blond he thought he knew. Or was it?

"It means that I'm free," Luna said, while thanking every deity she could remember (and there were many) for the fact that Harry was being open-minded. "Because I speak about my belief of unusual things, I am deemed insane. Not because I believe those things. Many people believe unusual things, but because I freely speak of it, I'm called crazy. Someone that is psychotic freely causes pain and suffering with no regard for others. Someone that does things others consider stupid and dangerous takes the freedom of doing what his or her heart desires." She said all this utterly calmly, and with almost no emotion. Luna almost seemed to be her normal self again, but she was lacking her distinctive dreaminess and almost looked nervous. The next idea would be the one that really decided the outcome of this discussion. It had been successful so far. Harry had finally learned to let himself go, but this idea would alter his actions forever if he accepted it. "I would think someone that has had as little freedom as you have had could use a little insanity." Harry's eyes shot wide open at that, but he didn't interrupt what Luna was saying. "It has the wonderful side effect of you never having to worry about what others think ever again." It almost sounded like a joke, but it made far too much sense for that.

"You have no idea how much I could use a little freedom," Harry responded wistfully. _"I wonder what the manipulative old Headmaster would think of me cracking. It would be a fun stunt to pull if nothing else."_ "Speaking of crazy, and I mean this in the best possible way, you seem really different. You haven't mentioned creatures that I don't know about once, and you're much more focused than you usually seem." _"Plus you're practically laying on me. And I must say it's a nice view."_ Harry shook his head to focus on the conversation and hoped Luna hadn't caught him staring. _"That's Luna damn it. Our friend Luna. Get your hormones under control."_

Luna squeezed the arm around Harry's waist and smiled to show there were no hard feelings over his question. "Like you said Harry, I believe in creatures no one can see and I'm a bit odd. That doesn't mean I don't know when to stop talking about creatures. Besides, I know pretty well what you're going through with your godfather. Ginny told me what she knew about the situation, and we're all here for you. And if it all becomes too much, remember: insanity is only a step way. You can seize freedom whenever you want," Luna said. As Harry's eyes refocused on hers, she winked at him. It could have been interpreted dozens of ways, but she decided that Harry was a little too noble to interpret it the way she meant. Oh well, it would be fun to tease Harry, but there were more important things to talk about at the moment. One little shot would have to be enough. "It'll allow you to get away from the situation for a while. If I can ever help distract you in any way, just let me know."

Harry almost collapsed in shock when Luna paired her wink with that last sentence. _"There's no way she meant that the way I think she meant it. She must not realize what she said. It's Luna after all. The double meaning could easily be missed."_ "Wha – um, uh what're you, uh, doing over the summer Luna?" Harry managed to stammer out as his face endeavored to match the color of Ron's hair. Maybe he'd been wrong about being beyond embarrassment at the moment.

"Daddy and I are going on a trip to Sweden to see if we can find any Crumple-Horned Snorkacks," Luna said, giving no indication that she even noticed Harry's predicament. The poor wizard had honestly never stood a chance. "And what of you, Harry? Will you be returning to the monsters that gave you these?" Luna asked as she traced the scars that were scattered across Harry's back. The young man immediately tensed up, but Luna just burrowed farther under the arm around her shoulders and leaned into his chest.

"_She found them. You knew she might and you didn't move. Now it's too late. How is this even surprising? If anyone can find something that most people miss or refuse to acknowledge, it's Luna." _Harry let the tension drop out of his body. It was pointless anyway. She already knew. The urge to hide his scars was just deeply ingrained. Ever since that first beating that cut Harry's back with Uncle Vernon's belt buckle, almost every beating left a lasting impression. Some of the scars were only shallow lines, but others were raised and twisted scar tissue that stood out from his back. The lines seemed to be randomly scattered. There was no order to their placement, but that was worse, in a way, than if they were orderly. Cruelty with order can be anticipated and plans could be made to lessen the damage or pain. This kind of random cruelty couldn't be lessened. It was always a surprise, and it was always excruciatingly, mind-numbingly painful. He'd always made sure that no one saw the scars or found out about them, but now his secret was out. But did it really matter? Luna already knew almost everything else. She wouldn't tell anyone about his breakdown. Why would she tell anyone about this? No, he could trust Luna with this. He could trust her with **anything**. Harry pulled Luna closer so that she was almost sitting in his lap, and allowed her to continue tracing the scars on his back. "Yes. I'm going back just like I go back every summer. I'm not taking any of their idiocy this year. I've been training to fight for years. That training wasn't all magic. Maybe it's about time to stop hiding those skills. Maybe it's time for a little freedom. I'm going to need the training soon, anyway. The prophecy from the Department of Mysteries basically said that I'm the only one that can kill Voldemort, but either of us can win that fight. If I lose, he'll be unstoppable."

Luna just went with it, and moved up onto Harry's lap, which confused him even more. He wasn't a tall person, but Luna was small enough to still lay there comfortably with him. "Well, you'll just have to win then. It's not as if this is much of a change. He's always after you anyway. Even I could've told you that you'd have to kill him eventually," Luna said as if that were obvious. Her dreamy voice almost seemed to be coming back until she continued with a wicked smile. "Take the prophecy at face value, but don't let it rule you, Harry. Prophecies are famous for never being what they seem. You've always been an uptight person, but you really can't deal with all this tension. What you need is to relax. How did your friend Dean put it? Oh! You need to 'get laid,'" she said, looking at him with an expectant expression.

Harry's first instinct was to run, which he ruthlessly suppressed. Luna was sitting in his lap. Running would be utterly useless. He also denied his second and third instincts, which were to blush and stutter respectively. That was what Luna wanted, and besides, he **did **need to loosen up a little. Maybe he could even finally put Luna off-balance. "Well, if you're volunteering…" Harry responded.

His plan might have worked too. Harry just forgot one key fact: this wasn't some silly, giggling, blushing girl. This was Luna. The poor boy never stood a chance because of that fact. Luna just leaned onto his shoulder and turned so she could see him. Then she gave him a seductive smile and started to grind into his lap. As a straight breathing male not to mention a hormonal fifteen year-old, Harry could only react in one way. The fact that that reaction was currently jabbing into the rather fine arse of one of his best friends confirmed that he definitely wasn't beyond embarrassment. The concept that that was exactly what Luna was trying to achieve seemed to escape him. Despite the fact that he had started it, Luna decided to have pity on Harry. She gave him a quick kiss on the cheek, and then threw her head back and laughed.

The most articulate thought that Harry could manage for a moment was _"Huh?"_ Then the pieces fell into place. "You planned that! You knew exactly what you were doing the whole time," he said in a voice that was angry but playful. "I'll get you for that." He grabbed Luna by the hips before she could get away and immediately starting tickling her. That plan could have been thought out better. Luna's immediate reaction was to wriggle and grind even more into Harry's lap. It was too late to stop though, starting a plan is committing to a plan. He continued to tickle her mercilessly until she was red in the face and could barely breathe.

As soon as he let go, Luna jumped up and turned to face him with as much fake rage as she could manage to conjure up. Harry just responded with a repentant look and opened his arms. She really wanted to stay mad, but just couldn't hold onto the emotion. Luna gave it up as a lost cause, and hugged him. It really was amazing how everything a friend did could be forgiven with a hug.

Harry was experiencing the same revelation. It felt good to finally be able to hug someone without worrying about his scars. It felt good to not have to worry about any of his secrets when someone was around. It was liberating. Freedom was sweet. _"If this is what I've been missing all this time, then insanity here I come. It feels so good to drop all the worrying for once. I can do whatever I want, and it feels good." _They'd managed to waste away most of the day with their conversation, and the shadows were once again lengthening as the sun began to set. As much as he enjoyed sitting there with Luna, Harry was keenly aware that he hadn't eaten yet. "We should probably head for the Great Hall, Luna. I've already missed breakfast and lunch. If I don't put in an appearance for dinner, Dumbledore and the other professors might start jumping to conclusions."

"Probably," Luna said, bouncing to her feet, which oddly enough were bare. "But think of all the fun we could get up to, if we stayed out here instead." She grabbed Harry's hand and helped him stand up from his sitting position.

Harry just laughed at her not-so-subtle hint. "I think I'm afraid to think about that," he said, as they began to walk hand in hand towards the castle. "Hey Luna, do you mind if I send you letters this summer? I think it would be fun to keep in contact and stay friends through the summer." He'd thrown that last part in there as a way to reassure Luna. She always seemed to not realize that everyone from the Ministry trip really did think of her as a friend. There was that, and it never did hurt to have a friend biased in your favor with which you could talk. The fact that Luna was a little crazy and he probably soon would be too just made it better.

As soon as he said the word "friends", Luna's face lit up with that happy smile again. "I'd like that, Harry," she said, as they walked up to the school doors. "And after the Ministry incident, Dumbledore decided that everyone involved should stay at your godfather's house in August." Harry was stunned. And that was putting it mildly. He stopped walking and just stared with his mouth hanging open. _"All five of them are going to be at Grimmauld Place? That's going to be amazing, but it almost seems wrong to look forward to summer in that house without Sirius." _

The thoughts that were warring inside Harry were clearly visible on his face, but Luna said nothing as she pulled Harry into through the doors. It would be better if he was left to his thoughts, instead of another discussion right now. As they entered the Great Hall, Harry realized they were still holding hands. "Remember to grieve, but allow it to pass, Harry," Luna said while turning to face him. All the students were staring at them, but that was nothing new for either of them. "You can still be at the house without having to mourn. And when you've finally gotten rid of your wrackspurts, you'll be able to enjoy the time with your friends so much more." The last part was delivered in Luna's normal dreamy voice, as they walked close enough for others to hear.

"Thanks for everything Luna," Harry whispered so no one else would overhear. "You've done more than I could've ever asked for." The day had been full of surprises, and Luna had been the source of every good one. Harry knew he had a lot to think about so he was planning a quick dinner and an early night so he could think about everything that Luna had mentioned. He had more grief to deal with, more plans to lay and his own blooming insanity to ponder. It shouldn't be too hard to drive himself crazy when he was going back to the Dursleys again.

However, the surprises for the day weren't finished yet. As he turned to walk away, Luna stood up on her toes and gave him a kiss on the cheek before walking toward the Ravenclaws with a smile on her face. Harry just stood and watched her go. _"I'm definitely going to have to talk to her more before the end of term." _As he headed toward the Gryffindor table, it occurred to him that everyone was still staring. Luna had some of the attention, but the vast majority of the students were looking directly at him. Determined to ignore them, he sat down across from Ginny and Neville. Ron and Hermione were still in the Hospital Wing, but Madame Pomphrey had healed the broken bones in a few minutes, and then dismissed Ginny and Neville.

Speaking of Ginny and Neville, they were currently alternating between staring at him and casting each other knowing glances. "What?" Harry snapped, finally fed up with their staring as the comfortable buzz of conversation once again filled the hall.

Neville decided he'd be the one to ask. "We , uh… We were, uh, we were just-"

"Are you going out with Luna?" Ginny asked when Neville started stammering. She seemed flustered, and unless Harry was reading this completely wrong, she was also a little jealous. _"And the crush from Hades returns."_

"No," Harry responded in a tone that he hoped make it clear that he really meant no. "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you did miss two meals today," Neville said, hoping that this wouldn't start an argument. "And then you and Luna walk into the Hall together holding hands. Plus Luna kissed you-"

"On the cheek!" Harry objected, while desperately trying to keep his voice down. This was absolutely ludicrous.

Neville just held up his hand to stall the complaints. "But the fact remains that she kissed you," he continued. "And Luna almost never shows any affection. To anyone. Ever. Add to that the fact that you're looking happier than you should be instead of sulking considering what happened last night. Look at it from our point of view." The reasoning was delivered with an almost apologetic shrug, but Ginny looked almost murderous. _"Yep. The crush is back. She really needs to figure out that I'm not interested in her."_

"Fine," Harry said, but still kept his voice low. "I can accept what it looks like, but that's not what happened. Luna was just helping me deal with my godfather's death. It took a while, but we just sat and talked. We're friends. Just like I'm friends with you guys. I have a lot to think about, so I'm going to eat and then call it an early night." He started to load his plate. Ginny and Neville just stared skeptically, but didn't say anything.

Harry ate as quickly as he could and almost fled the Hall he was moving so fast. He didn't leave quickly enough to avoid Ginny mumbling to Neville that Luna seemed to be the only friend that could bring Harry out of a sulk so quickly. He made his way to the Gryffindor common room using all the secret passages that would help him avoid people. It was a little slower, but it gave him privacy and some time to think. _"Maybe she does have a special place in my mind, but she's still a friend. Not more. She is special though, and will always be special to me, if for no other reason than what she did for me today."_

Harry made it to the common room without seeing anyone except for a close call with Peeves on a fourth floor stairwell. As soon as he was through the Fat Lady's portrait, Harry ran up to his dorm, changed and closed the curtains around his bed. Silence was a skill he'd learned early in his life with the Dursleys. No one would hear him that night, despite his grief. Harry suffered long into the night remembering the good times with Sirius, the loss of Sirius and all the other people that Voldemort had torn from him or injured. When Neville, Dean and Seamus came in for the night, Harry made sure that not a sound passed through the curtains. A few times, he almost broke down completely, but he kept control of himself. The guys in his dorm couldn't know what he was doing. Memories of Luna holding him saved him those times. If he couldn't have the real thing, then a memory was the next best thing. Thinking of Luna just brought up the subject of her philosophy. It was hours before he found peace, but in the dark of the night after the moon had set, Harry dropped into sleep knowing two things: he would never again give anything to Voldemort without exacting a price in blood and maybe insanity could give him the freedom to do that.


	3. End of Term

Harry Potter, other characters and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling not me. Other recognizable characters also do not belong to me, and I do not claim ownership of them. I'm just playing around in a world created by others.

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**/Parseltongue/**

Harry may have made peace with himself and banished his guilt, but that didn't mean he lost all the material for his nightmares. Insomnia had been a constant companion of his since before he ever came to Hogwarts. It was just another thing for which he blamed the Dursleys. Even without his guilt, the first dream he had was of Sirius. He had no guilt over anything that happened that night, but that didn't stop his grief over Sirius' death. Consequently, the start of the dream was about Sirius' death. It was a shame that he wouldn't remember its contents come morning.

Harry was back in the death chamber at the Ministry, and his entire attention was fixed on the Veil. This couldn't be his memory because the room was empty. He tried to move out of the room. He didn't want the memories that this place called up. Unfortunately, he could neither move nor speak; he could barely think. It seemed as if this was going to be one of those nightmares. And so, Harry stood and bore silent witness to the horrors to come.

Ghostly images of the past battle started to materialize in the room and fade in and out of existence. Each time it was a single pair of fighters. The Order members held their own against the Death Eaters, but they could only do so much against the Unforgivables. The entire room was laden with energy, but those curses tore through even the most powerful shields. The Death Eaters threw them with impunity. Even as Harry's attention was focused on that fact, the other fighters faded away as if by a signal. It was time for the reason for Harry's grief to take center stage.

Bellatrix and Sirius materialized like so many others had. Their duel began like so many others, but something was different. Something wasn't right. If only it weren't so hard to think clearly, he would be able to figure it out. As Sirius foolishly moved toward the dais in the center of the room, clarity hit Harry like a lightning bolt.

Bellatrix wasn't throwing any Unforgivables! In fact, she seemed to be trying her hardest to circle Sirius away from the Veil. That wasn't too strange on its own. In a duel, it wasn't always wise to let your opponent move where they wanted to go. Still, if he didn't know better, Harry might say that Bellatrix was deliberately trying to avoid hurting Sirius too badly. _Impossible! That psychopathic bitch revels in others' pain. Of course she knew what she was doing._ It was too late. The idea had surfaced, and it wasn't leaving. Or at least, Harry thought it wouldn't. He wouldn't remember any of this when he awoke.

With the thought of Bellatrix's possible attempt to save Sirius at the front of his mind, Harry watched her closely for the remainder of the fight. He was being forced to watch Sirius die again, but at least he could get something at of it. And so, Harry stood frozen as Sirius stood in front of the veil and deliberately mocked his cousin. _Oh Sirius, what were you thinking? You were an open target up on that dais. No one was near enough to draw fire away from you, and you sat there and taunted her. Why couldn't you save it for after you had won? _Bellatrix cast the fatal spell and time seemed to slow around them. The ghostly apparitions faded away and Harry stared at the spell as it slowly crawled across the space. It wasn't green.

_No… She's guilty. She's a murderer. No! NOOOO! _On top of everything else, Bellatrix seemed to be innocent of killing Sirius. The effects of that single thought raced through Harry's mind and ran through endless repetitions in mere seconds. For some reason Bellatrix hadn't wanted Sirius dead. Harry really only had himself to blame for his godfather's death, but he had already dealt with his guilt. Bellatrix Lestrange, psychopathic murderer extraordinaire, might be one of his theorized innocent Death Eaters. He had attempted to cast a Crucio over an accident. These thoughts and so many others occurred to Harry before all coherent thought was stopped by the next portion of his dream. It really was a shame that he wouldn't remember these revelations, but the rest of his dream would be forever burned into his mind.

Harry fell into a scene that truly changed this dream into a nightmare. He was in a dungeon that seeped with an excess of suffering and agony. Shackles hung from the rough stone walls, which were stained with old blood. The air was heavy with the metallic scent of that same blood, and was heavy with the atrocities that had been committed here. The chamber called up images that Harry, a fifteen year-old boy, had no business understanding, but he knew them well, regardless of that fact. Images flashed before his eyes: the pitiless eyes of a murderer, blood cascading over a stone altar, flesh being slowly torn from a victim's body as they wailed in pain, death coming for his loved ones. Images of terrifying power flashed by his eyes, some of which he had experienced and others that had appeared in his mind during Voldemort's resurrection and his encounters with the Veil. The voices behind the Veil had seemed to be innocently whispering, but these were the horrid truths they were telling. Harry fell flat on his back into this room, and knew that this part of his dream wouldn't be nearly as forgiving as the last. It was into this scene that Voldemort entered.

"Crucio." The sibilant, hissing voice echoed around the room. _It's only a dream!_ Harry immediately tried to justify that this was his dream, therefore either he should be in control or he shouldn't feel pain as it was a dream. Neither of these arguments seemed to matter. It was if his dream was pulling the sensations directly from his memory and forcing him to relive them. As his back arched and his eyes closed, Harry's senses were consumed by one thing: pain. Nothing else existed.

If asked to describe the pain of a Crucio, he might say that it was excruciating or that it was easily the most painful thing that he had ever experienced. However, Harry knew that neither of those descriptions even came close to the total agony that was the Cruciatus. Violent magic directly stimulated every nerve in his body, which subjected him to an impersonal flood of pain, which was literally the greatest amount of pain that his body could feel at one time. Pain attacked him in all its forms. His skin felt as if it were burning away from his body, as if it had ignited or he had been covered in acid, while knives seem to dig into every inch of his skin. Every movement sent pain lancing through his body, but he couldn't help but shake as his muscles were wracked by violent spasms. As Harry arched his back beyond what should have been possible and flailed his limbs, he collected dozens of scratches and scrapes that he didn't even notice because he couldn't feel any more pain from those nerves. Amid this storm, thought wasn't possible. Only one action could be taken, and Harry gave in to that instinct. He screamed into the night. He howled out his pain, but it didn't matter. No one would hear him. Trapped in his own mind, Harry suffered every physical torture he could imagine, but this was only the beginning.

If Sirius' death had shown Harry anything, it was that he feared one thing above all others. He couldn't bear the thought of losing his loved ones. Most people couldn't bear that thought, but very few people ever actually worried about it. Precious few ever realized how truly fragile their existence is and how devastating it would be to lose someone close to them. And then, when it was least expected, someone would be ripped from them. Harry had learned that lesson well, and he feared the possibility of losing his friends like he had lost Sirius. In the defenseless state of dreaming and the silent darkness of the night, his tormented subconscious preyed on these fears.

The pain lessened until Harry regained awareness of his surroundings. The dungeon was gone, replaced by a featureless expanse of grey on all sides. The grey looked like it expanded on for eternity, but it had defined boundaries. He could feel it under his feet, and he could swear that there was a wall of some sort of few steps to his left. Although the scenery had changed, Voldemort was still there. A self-satisfied grin was plastered on his pale, inhuman face. The physical torture had ended, but that didn't mean things were about to get better. Harry knew what was coming, and he wanted nothing more than to collapse and hide his eyes. He didn't want to witness this. He wanted to cry, to run from the prophecy and the world in which he lived, but his subconscious didn't care what his mind wanted.

Voldemort spread his arms and behind him appeared thirteen cloaked figures, with their wrists shackled behind their backs. He couldn't see who they were due to their raised cowls, which cast deep shadows, but he could guess. Six of these figures stepped forward, and froze stiffly, which Harry realized meant that they were petrified. With a wave of his hand, Voldemort ripped off their hoods. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley stood along with Bill, Charlie, Fred and George. They stood there, with mournful faces, and in utterly toneless voices, they addressed him, "Why couldn't you save us Harry? Why?" Unable to move, his horrified screams couldn't be released. They reverberated in his head without any release. Voldemort flicked his wrist, and translucent shadows appeared in front of each Weasley.

Each bore a sword, and in terrifying synchronization, they stabbed each Weasley through the stomach, angling up into a lung. The featureless forms viciously twisted the weapons, and withdrew them with a slashing flourish. The redheaded family fell to their knees, released from the immobility. Harry stared into their faces. Their expressions hadn't changed, except to twist in agony, while their eyes still conveyed their mournful questions. While he watched the only family he had ever known bleed out on the floor, Harry couldn't help but acknowledge that there was worse to come. Ron and Ginny weren't with their parents for a reason. There were still seven figures left.

The malevolent form of the Dark Lord seemed to be highlighted by a corona of light as the shadows shifted. All the figures now cast long shadows in Harry's direction, and he couldn't see their faces clearly. What he could see were the swords that had claimed the Weasleys lives. They still dripped with blood and gleamed in the unnatural light. They gleamed a scarlet red that Harry knew all too well from the colors of Gryffindor.

He could also see the shadows, which seemed to be formed of nothing more than light. If it didn't seem absurd, Harry would say they were pure magic. Whatever they were, they were extremely hostile. Everything from their aggressive stance to the foreboding that came with their presence radiated hostility and violence. As the light passed through them, it seemed to dim as the energy and warmth was sucked from it into their insubstantial bodies. The effect on the temperature wasn't unlike a Dementor's, and they brought the same feeling of dread and hopelessness with them.

In the instant it had taken to register these observations, Voldemort had vanished from view. "Sssssave them hero," came his hissing voice from right behind Harry's ear. "Or can't you?" His long-fingered hand came up to grip Harry's shoulder. "Of courssse, you can't." The hand moved to delicately stroke Harry's exposed throat, reminding him of his incredible vulnerability. "You never could beat me, and never will." The hand grabbed Harry barely under his jaw, and dug into two pressure points in his throat. He couldn't move if he tried. "Watch closely, **ssssavior**. And remember that this is the price of your failure," Voldemort hissed as the remaining figures dropped their hoods. The hoods mattered little anymore. Harry already knew who they were.

Tonks was dragged forward in the same way as the Weasleys, and a single of the grey apparitions stepped forward to meet her. The light shifted and suddenly, Harry could see her face, even though he wished with all his heart that he couldn't. He wished that these were just nameless, faceless figures, but they weren't. There Tonks stood in all her glory. Her hair was spiky and bubblegum pink, while her eyes were a deep violet. Her mouth was quirked in an impish smile, which spoke of endless mischief and laughter. Her hair was normal for her, but Harry could swear that he recognized those eyes from somewhere other than Tonks. Before he had time to think on those eyes, the apparition stepped forward, and Harry's heart bled with emotion.

As the still dripping sword was raised, Harry frantically tried to break the bonds that held him. He found that he could now move his torso, but his arms, legs and head were still immobile. He couldn't close his eyes, and no matter how much he screamed, no sound came out. Opening his mouth hurt, because Voldemort's fingers dug deeper into his throat, but Harry was beyond caring about his own miniscule pain. He struggled against his bonds with all his strength, and even attempted to break them by throwing uncontrolled magic against them, but it wasn't enough. It wasn't nearly enough.

The figure impassively slashed Tonks diagonally from hip to shoulder in a single brutal movement. As Tonks threw back her head and screamed, her hair changed to a raven black and her eyes flashed yellow then faded to blood red. The wound wasn't fatal. Tonks would die, but not before her tortured screams echoed and faded. Her screams set Harry's deepest being on edge. They grated on his consciousness and his soul. After they faded to pained whimpers, the apparition looked at her with what Harry guessed was contempt. If a faceless being could sneer, that apparition did, and slammed it's sword up through the bottom of Tonks' mouth, splitting open her skull. As she fell back with the sword still in her head, Harry dreaded the six more to come.

Harry tried to ignore what he knew was coming. He tried to resign himself to the fact that he couldn't break his bonds. He couldn't help them, and this was going to happen. He tried to ignore it, and he almost succeeded for the next three people. He didn't really react as the next three were killed. Still, the images of their deaths would haunt future nightmares and his waking moments until the day he died, and even years after that. Neville was next, and an apparition efficiently cleaved him open for skull to stomach. The swing was controlled, so that while Neville was cut open, he wasn't cut in half. His death was perhaps the most merciful, because at least he died instantly. Remus Lupin was next. Harry was forced to watch as he was torturously covered in silver that slowly ate away his essence. That last death that Harry could bear was Ginny's. Her eyes were cut out, while she stared at Harry, and then knives were plunged into the empty sockets.

After all this, Harry thought he was hardened to the images of death and torture. The next two figures were Ron and Hermione. The thought of losing his two oldest friends was so terrible to him, that Harry resumed his fight even though he knew it was futile. He thrashed against his bonds, pulling and straining with every ounce of strength he had, all in vain. At the peak of his struggles, Harry felt his shoulders separate from the force he had been exerting to pull forward from his bonds. The pain of having is shoulder separated in one of Vernon's beatings returned to him, and he hung from his bonds, unable to support his weight any longer. He wanted nothing more than to cry for eternity, but he wasn't allowed any reprieve. As soon as he stopped thrashing, Ron and Hermione were dragged right in front of him. If he were still able to fight, he could probably reach them with his throes. They were that close when the apparitions slit their throats and Harry was drenched in their blood.

He dangled there unable to even release his pain and sorrow, knowing there was still one figure left. The figure he had been dreading most. The person who had stood by him this very day and had helped him when no one else could. Luna stepped forward, but no apparition moved to greet her. Her torture would go beyond what the others had suffered, except possibly Lupin. "Remember," Voldemort commanded Harry. And as he disappeared with the apparitions, a final word resounded behind him, "Burn."

Luna burst into violent flames, but refused to scream. Harry looked on as the flames licked at her delicate, lightly tanned skin and golden hair. Her skin peeled back and blackened as blisters formed all over her body. Some of those blisters burst and bled, but the heat from the flames immediately cauterized the wounds. Her hair burned from her head, and her beautiful face was eaten away by the greedy flames. As they crackled and popped, the flames seemed to mock Harry's inability to help his friend. Through it all, Luna held her dreamy expression, and refused to make a sound. Finally, Luna locked eyes with Harry and gave him a single pained smile. Then she fell to the ground, and her corpse burned away.

With the last of the figures dead Harry's voice was released, and he howled his wordless anguish to the night as his eyes opened. Luckily, his screams ended in his dreams, and his dorm mates were still sleeping. It was still just before dawn, and the sky was just beginning to lighten. "It's good to see you again, insomnia, old friend," Harry whispered to the dark room, as he shuddered from the memories of his nightmare. It would take him almost an hour to compose himself, but as soon as he did, he showered and headed for the hospital wing to see Ron and Hermione.

Since it was now early morning, Harry left his invisibility cloak in the tower. He had enough experience moving silently that he was confident he wouldn't be caught. Even if he was caught, it was early morning. There probably wasn't a rule against what he was doing. _Who am I kidding? I don't know the rules._ It didn't matter in any case. The halls were silent and utterly deserted for the entire trip. _The dreams are back,_ Harry reflected as he slowly walked through the mazelike corridors. _And it looks like they'll be worse than ever. It's going to be a long summer unless I can find a way to get away from the Dursleys._

Harry was so caught up in his musings that he almost walked straight into the hospital wing before he realized that he could hear voices. He managed to stop before he gave himself away, but he could barely understand what was being said.

"It looks like you're lucky Miss Granger," _I know that voice after all my time in the hospital wing. Good old Madame Pomphrey. Hermione must be taking a potion every few hours. _"It'll take some time for you to heal, but in time, the scar will fade and you'll be fine."

A sense of pure relief flooded Harry, and he almost collapsed. Hermione was going to be alright! She wouldn't even have a scar! The next sentence, however, would resonate within Harry and change his perspective completely.

"What do you mean **this **scar?"

Harry cringed and leaned against the wall. He slowly slid down it with his head in his hands. _She means that you've seen fighting now. She means that you've seen fighting now. You will never forget the pain that that curse put you through. You'll never forget the terror you felt when you almost died. You'll carry that around with you for the rest of your life. We all will. At the very least none of us has had to kill… yet._

While Harry was thought about the scars that couldn't be seen and might not be able to be healed, Madame Pomphrey finished with Hermione and headed back to her office. Harry stood up and moved slowly into the ward. Hermione was standing with her back turned, and Ron was lying facing the other way. Harry silently leaned against the doorway and waited for Hermione to turn back around.

He had to grin when she almost squealed, and just barely managed to stifle with her hands. Ron heard the noise and looked over. His face immediately lit up.

"How are you guys feeling?" Harry asked, wondering about the role reversal. Normally, he was the one in the hospital bed.

"I feel fine," Ron said. "I'm not sure what those brains did, but it didn't last. Now I know why you're always complaining about being stuck in here. This must be the most boring place in the world!" Ron seemed as lively as ever. There wasn't anything visibly wrong with him, but he still had the scars from where the brains had grabbed. _Must be here for observation._

Harry just smiled at his oldest friend and glanced at Hermione. She looked a lot worse than Ron. She was pale, probably from blood loss or using so much energy after being so badly hurt. Every movement seemed to irritate her torso, which was extremely sensitive from the wound and the magical healing. _Dolohov will pay in blood. No one hurts any of them and gets away with. _At that unbidden thought, Harry began to wonder about just what his friends meant to him. What did he mean by "_them_"? Would the injury of just a friend really demand blood vengeance? He truly loved his core group of friends. He would do anything for them, but that went beyond just normal friendship. They were more to him. Just what did that make them though? The sound of Hermione's voice snapped him out of his thoughts.

"I'm getting better, but I'm still sore. I'm also pretty weak and can't use a lot of energy at once." True to her words, Hermione was swaying on her feet.

Harry walked over and gently helped her into bed, careful not to do anything that might irritate her torso. "I'm sorry you guys got hurt following me. I really shou-"

"Harry, do us a favor and shut up, before you say something foolish," Ron said, cutting across Harry's apology. "We're your friends. You better believe we were where we wanted to be."

"If you need our help, we'll be there Harry," Hermione added. "Even if you don't want us there."

"You're family. And a Weasley always looks out for family."

_That's it. That's what they all are. They're my family. _Harry was stunned by their responses. Not only were they not blaming him, they were telling him that they would do everything again if he ever needed them. For someone that had never had a support system before, this unconditional loyalty was overwhelming. All he could do was smile.

His friends could see what a huge impact their words had had, and gave him time to gather himself. Even then, all he could do was thank them, so they decided to move on to another topic.

"Harry," Hermione began. "How are you doing dealing with…"

"Sirius' death?"

"Yeah. You can't bottle up your emotions or cut yourself off from everyone else." It was obvious that Hermione was concerned, and she would do whatever she thought would help Harry. If he didn't want to open up about his emotions, and she thought he should, then that sucked for him.

"I've been talking about it with Luna. She lost her mother a few years ago, and she's been helping me."

"Good." Through unspoken agreement, the three friends switched the topic of conversation to lighter things. They all had thoughts weighing on their minds, and they tried to forget their troubles while they could. Soon enough it was time for Harry to get to breakfast. He wished Hermione a speedy recovery and headed for the Great Hall.

It was still early n the morning, and only a few students were scattered across the four tables. Harry was heading for his normal spot when he saw Luna getting up from the Ravenclaw table and walking towards him. _I wonder if she wants to talk more. I need breakfast regardless._ He made it to his seat and filled his plate, then waited for Luna to reach him.

Instead of saying anything, Luna just sat on his lap and began filling the plate next to his. For a couple seconds, Harry did nothing except stare at the back of Luna's head while she hummed a tune to herself. He tapped her on the shoulder, which caused her to immediately stop humming. Harry just waited for her to turn around. When she looked back, he grabbed her around her waist, picked her up and placed her in the seat next to him. _Well that was odd._

She just shot him a slightly reproachful glance and went back to her breakfast as if nothing had happened. _What the….I give up. _"Thanks for yesterday, Luna. Do you think we could hang out together later today?" Harry asked, as he began to eat.

"I'd love to, Harry. When and where should I meet you?" The humming began again, but it was quiet and if Harry was honest with himself, quite soothing. He was going to need it too, because Neville and Ginny had just entered the hall and spotted him with Luna.

"How about 4 o'clock? We can go for a walk through the grounds or around the castle somewhere." Ginny and Neville had almost reached them at this point, but Harry had already said everything he needed to say.

"I'll see you then." Luna flashed him a smile, and then they went back to eating silently as the approaching pair sat across from them.

"Morning, guys." Harry said. It was obvious that he was just greeting them because they were friends. He didn't seem eager to talk. The other two responded in much the same way. Ginny almost missed his greeting because she was so preoccupied with glaring at Luna. _Yep. 112% jealous. She's topping the charts and then some. _Luckily, Luna seemed completely oblivious. Harry quickly finished his breakfast and left the hall. If the battle at the Ministry had shown him anything, it was that he needed to know more. With that in mind, he headed for the room of requirement. He had a long day of training ahead of him.

He and his… family had fought well at the department of mysteries, but Voldemort simply outclassed him when it came to magical knowledge and expertise. He had decades more experience, and he was one of the most powerful wizards of the era. Harry had trained hard over the past five years, but he would never last in a battle like the one between Voldemort and Dumbledore two days ago. The experience differential wasn't something he could change, but the difference in magical knowledge was something he could change.

It was to this end that he was in the Room of Requirement. The room was lined on bookcases on three sides, while the side of the room opposite the door was a firing range. There were a couple of spells that he wanted to research from the battle. The curse that Dolohov hit Hermione with was one of them. The flame basilisk that Voldemort conjured was also something that seemed extremely useful. It might have been fiendfyre, but he wasn't sure. In any case, both of those were probably extremely Dark. Fiendfyre could be useful, but he would have to research it extensively. No, the thing he wanted to work on today is the shield that Voldemort conjured that could deflect spells.

_I need a book about magical shields. A book about corporeal shields not spells, preferably with the most powerful spells in existence. _The room bent magic to his needs, and a book floated over his shoulder. _Shields Most Arcane__, this looks like exactly what I need. _The book as a whole seemed to consist mostly of theory. At the end though, there was section of spells. The first one of which seemed to fit Harry's purposes exactly. The ασπίδα ψυχή spell.

It was a Greek spell that roughly translated as the Soul Shield Spell. It made the person's own psychological protections around their soul and personality a physical shield. Because the shield was imbued with magic, it could deflect spells, and because it was an actual physical shield, it could deflect physical blows. The shield would only break when the caster's soul shields broke. There were of course a few major drawbacks.

The major one being that because the spell was tied so deeply into the caster's psychology, the caster had to know themselves intimately. They couldn't lie about who they were, what they felt or believed or their past. The spell could only call forth the wizard's psychology, but the intent was necessary for the spell to work. The intent had to include the psychological nuances being called forth or the spell would fail. That kind of self-knowledge was rare, but the spell seemed worth it, and Harry had never been in the habit of lying to himself thanks to his childhood with the Dursleys. He had always had to face the cold hard truth. His relatives went out of their way to expose him to the harshness of the world when he was as young as three years old. He knew himself better than most, but even for him this would not be easy.

Also, the shield would be a physical manifestation of what was essentially an aspect of his mind. Once he called the shield into being, it could be summoned to him in the same way that the sword of Gryffindor could. It would react to his will, and could be commanded with a thought. The minor drawback about giving physical form to a mental aspect is that such an aspect was constantly changing. The shield would change to represent Harry's mental state, which would make that mental state visible to the world. Still, it was worth it for the added protection.

Harry immediately tried to cast the archaic spell and failed. It didn't surprise him much. He knew himself incredibly well, but the spell also required you to be true to your past. Harry had made a life of denying his past for years. Luna had called him out on it last night, but he was still far from accepting all of his past. It was going to take some intense meditation to relive his past and accept it as a part of him. With that in mind, Harry spent the next five hours remembering everything that he could about his past and thinking about how it affected him now.

He really needed the coming walk with Luna. She could help pull him out of the painful memories. He had made progress and it was possible that he would be able to perform the spell the next day, but it had cost him.

The next day followed the pattern of the last day almost exactly except with a small deviation. Harry performed the Soul Shield spell successfully. The shield would probably disturb anyone else that saw it, but to Harry it was a perfect fit. The shield was a buckler with a diameter a little over 35cm. The surface was a weave of dozens of shades of grey. They elegantly flowed around one another, but never mixed, and there was no pure white or black anywhere on the shield. The most concerning feature was probably the shield's condition. It was badly dented and entire sections were bent. Deep gouges marred the surface, and there were splashes of dried blood in some places. Even more striking than its condition were the two loops of thick chain that went around the shield and formed an X on the front. The shield would serve its purpose, but it seemed dangerously close to breaking.

After that the last few days followed a set routine. Harry woke up early after suffering from nightmares each night. Then he went and worked out the negative emotion with weapons training in the Room of Requirement. The rest of the day was spelt with Ron and Hermione, Luna or Ginny and Neville. Harry hoped to get his family together on the train, but for now they stayed separate.

A couple of days before the end of term, Harry approached Dean about ordering Muggle items. As it turned out, Gringotts could deliver Muggle items for those who knew to ask (and were willing to pay extra for the delivery service). Harry was willing to pay extra because he just couldn't buy things in the Muggle world because of the Dursleys. He needed these items to piss off the Dursleys so they were worth every Knut. The packages would be delivered the day after he was back at Privet Drive. Before Harry knew it, it was time for the train ride back to Hades on earth.


	4. Homecoming

Harry Potter, other characters and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling not me. Other recognizable characters also do not belong to me, and I do not claim ownership of them. I'm just playing around in a world created by others.

**AN: **I'm sorry this has taken so long to post. My life has been extremely hectic and I had a lot of trouble writing this chapter well. I'll be able to write more often now, but I can't promise regular postings. If nothing else, I won't let this become another abandoned fic. I will finish it. Thanks for all the support, and enjoy.

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**/Parseltongue/**

_Damn it, I'm going to be late for the train at this rate._ Harry and Ron were, of course, running late the morning of the train ride home. It was no big surprise. In fact, it was a regular occurrence. The Weasleys had arriving late, but not missing the train down to a science. What wasn't normal was Harry being intercepted by the Headmaster on his way to the train, which led to his present predicament.

Predictably, Dumbledore was concerned about Harry after the incident in his office. "I know that you rather not return to Privet Drive, Harry, but the wards there will keep you safer than anywhere else."

_Oh, sure they will. Voldemort won't be killing me this summer. The Dursleys might though. If they push me far enough, the Ministry might get involved too, and we all know Fudge would love to get some leverage on me. "_With **all **due respect sir, you don't understand just how bad it is. I'll tell you now, that I'm only going back there for protection. If the Dursleys try to pull their normal routine, I'm going to defend myself." It was obvious Harry was agitated. He had ignored the armchair the Headmaster had conjured for him and was now pacing, while his hand conspicuously twitched toward his wand.

Dumbledore just sighed in response. "Surely, they are not that bad Harry. They are your family. It will just be another summer, and you'll be able to spend August at Headquarters." He couldn't believe that it would be that bad. Harry's relatives would never force him to defend himself.

_Just let me go, Dumbledore. You're sending me back to that hell hole with no idea what it's really like. You don't even bother to keep tabs on me, when you need me to kill a Dark Lord for you. You won't be able to say I didn't warn you. _"I have to get to the train, sir, or I'm going to be late." Harry knew that he was being obviously confrontational, but Dumbledore deserved it after keeping the prophecy from him.

With Dumbledore as an escort, Harry made it to the train on time and immediately started looking for his friends. He walked down the train looking in compartments, until one door opened and he was dragged into that compartment. As he was thrown into a seat, he tried to regain his balance, but lost all remaining balance when he fell on top of someone already sitting in the seat he was thrown towards.

"Alright, Harry," Luna said. "I'll sit with you if you don't want to take the open seat, but I'm sitting in your lap, not the other way around.

Harry blushed furiously as Luna suited actions to words and Ron, Ginny, Hermione and Neville laughed at his expense. _Nice throw, Ron… Git. _"Hey everyone. Sorry about not coming down with you. Professor Dumbledore just wanted to check in with me after what happened at the Ministry." His expression darkened at this, and his friends sat there in their own thoughts.

Luna was the one that finally broke the tension. She hugged Harry from his lap and told him in no uncertain terms, "We're here for you if you need us."

Harry smiled joyfully as everyone agreed with Luna. They really were family. As the train left the station, the other four began a conversation about pointless topics, while Luna seemed to content to stare at nothing. They talked about what they thought of the OWLs, plans for the summer, how next year's Defense instructor could possibly be worse than Umbridge and anything else that came up. Harry just sat there and soaked in the normality and intimacy of it all.

Inevitably, having found a warm and comfy seat, Luna fell asleep while still sitting on Harry's lap. It was sort of a shame that he didn't see Luna that way, but he definitely preferred her as a member of his new family. It was definitely going to be an odd family, though, especially if they all ended up sharing the level of contact and emotional connection that he now seemed to have with Luna. _What do I care? They won't judge me. Or if they do, it won't matter all that much. They're my friends. Now what to do about Luna?... Well if you can't beat 'em…_

And with that thought, Harry let himself drift off to sleep soothed by the motion of the train and the rhythm of his friends' voices. Everyone else noticed of course, but no one wanted to wake Harry. They all knew that he hadn't been getting much sleep since the Ministry. Ron and Neville had shared information and were fairly sure that Harry hadn't gotten more than five hours of sleep each night. He almost always woke one of them when he woke, but they always went back to sleep while Harry began his day.

"Shhhhh," Ron hissed and nodded his head toward the sleeping pair. He was already trying to think of the best way to tease Harry mercilessly. It's not that he wasn't relieved that Harry finally seemed to be getting some peaceful sleep, but he was literally sleeping with Luna "Loony" Lovegood right now. It would just be fun among friends.

"We know, Ron," Hermione responded after glancing at Harry and Luna thoughtfully. Luna was something of an enigma to her. She would never understand how anyone could ever believe in so many obviously fictional animals. Still, she seemed to be helping Harry deal with recent events, and he was definitely physically more comfortable with her than any of them. Harry had always kept his distance when it came to personal space, which stopped any of them from connecting to him with anything but words. Sometimes it was just so much easier to communicate support or friendship with a physical gesture of some sort. If Luna was drawing him out physically and supporting him emotionally, then it could only be a good thing.

Ginny's thoughts were a little bit different. She believed that she would be better for Harry, but he refused to look at her that way. Luckily for her, Harry didn't seem to be looking at Luna that way either. There was no doubt Luna was helping Harry, but Ginny resolved to keep a close eye on them to make sure that if Harry ever became attracted to either of them, it would be her. They were meant to be together, and she would make it happen.

Neville just continued the conversation, although he made sure to keep his voice down. It was good to see Harry getting some real sleep. He deserved it. Luna also needed a good friend, while Harry needed someone to support him and draw him out. If they could help each other, then so much the better. Besides, they made a cute couple.

_-~|O|~-_

Harry slept dreamlessly through the rest of the train ride. When the Express arrived at the platform, Ron shook him awake and everyone grabbed their trunks. _Well, this is goodbye. _The group moved away from the train out onto the platform to look for their families. Neville spotted his grandmother and said his goodbyes as Ginny and Ron saw their parents headed for their group. It looked like Fred and George were busy with the shop at the moment. Mrs. Weasley immediately engulfed Ron in a hug and started asking Ginny about her school year. Luna took advantage of the distraction to trace one of Harry's scars. "I'll see you in a few months," she whispered. "Good luck." She quickly said goodbye to the others and walked away.

As soon as Harry turned back from watching her walk away, he was caught in a backbreaking hug from Mrs. Weasley. He stiffened up and did his best to extricate himself, while still being polite. With a little help from Ron, he begged off of the interrogation about his school year so he could go look for his relatives. A voice spoke from behind him before he could move, "Enjoy yourself this summer, Harry. And don't forget to write." _We'll see if I get the chance… No doubt you'll be signing all your letters with love, won't you Ginny?_

"You too, Ginny. I'll see you all soon," Harry said. _Well, this is awkward._ He turned to Ron. "Have a good summer, Ron. Take care of yourself and I'll see you in August."

"You too, mate. Don't let your relatives get you down. We'll be in touch if you need any help."

Nodding his thanks, Harry moved on to Hermione. "Have a great vacation, Hermione. And make sure it is a vacation. You'll have plenty of time to learn during the school term," he said with a grin.

"I'll enjoy myself however I want," Hermione responded. "Keep in contact if you need anything Harry. We're all willing to help." Harry nodded and was immediately smothered in a hug. _Well if things are going to change, they have to start somewhere… _Harry tentatively put his arms around Hermione and returned the hug, which was something he'd never allowed himself to do before. He still kept the hug short. There was no need for his friends to discover all of his secrets yet, but it was nice to be able to open up.

They head for the barrier and crossed over into the Muggle station. The first thing that Harry saw was Moody threatening Vernon. _No, no, no, no, no. _He moved to get in between them, but he would never get there in time. Mr. Weasley stepped forward and held him back. "The Order is going to be watching you a little more closely this summer," he said, with what was probably meant to be a comforting smile. "Your relatives are being warned about mistreating you, and we'll be expecting owls from you every three days." _No, nooo… You're just going to make it worse. Why couldn't you leave well enough alone? I could handle another summer of the normal treatment, but now it's going to be so much worse._

Harry couldn't do anything but watch helplessly as his fate for the summer was set. _I can't stay now. If they were brutal before, they'll be murderous now. I need a way to get out. The Order will check on me in three days if I don't owl them… that might work. _Moody had finished threatening Vernon, and it didn't look good for Harry. That shade of purple shouldn't have been possible for a living person to achieve.

"**Boy**," Vernon snarled at him. _Oh yeah, this is not going to be good. Screw this. I'm sticking to the plan and I'll fight back if I have to. _"Get your things… And get in the car." Vernon was clearly livid about being threatened by freaks.

Harry grabbed Hedwig and his trunk, and followed his relatives to the car. The Dursleys would no doubt confiscate his trunk and everything in it. Mostly, that didn't matter. He didn't need his school things. The only two objects of importance they would be taking were a Firebolt and an eleven inch holly wand. A fake eleven inch holly wand. The real one was currently strapped to the side of his shin. If the Dursleys became intolerable, he wouldn't be left unprotected.

The trip back to Privet Drive was made in almost absolute silence. Petunia was pretending that her nephew wasn't even there, while Dudley just stared at him in glee. The freak was going to get it, and he wanted to help. Vernon was the one that Harry had to worry about. He was obviously planning something, and it was something big. Nothing else could make the sadistic bastard smile like that after having been threatened so recently.

"I'm warning you now, **freak**. No matter what happens, you will send letters to **your kind** telling them that you're fine every two days. I don't care if the damn bloody world is ending. You **will **send the letters. Understand?"

_Shit. _"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry meekly replied, as the car turned onto Privet Drive.

"Good. Get your things and get inside."

Thinking quickly, Harry grabbed his wand and held it along the inside of his arm. Whatever was coming was going to be bad, and his wand might be snapped if he weren't careful. That wand might be the only thing to save him. He couldn't afford to be expelled because of using magic outside of school, but if it came down to it, he would take expulsion over the treatment the Dursleys put him through. He'd have no way out if his wand was destroyed. He'd be defenseless. He'd be at the mercy of his hated relatives, who had long ago proven that they wanted nothing more than to be rid of him.

As Harry trudged up the eternally pristine lawn with his trunk and Hedwig, he surreptitiously glanced around. When he wasn't being watched, he flicked his wrist, and his wand went sailing into the bushes. Mentally marking the spot, Harry continued to the door without ever breaking stride.

_Horse-Face will never find that. She refuses to do her own gardening, and when she tells me to do it, I'll take back my wand and hide it in my room... Time to face reality. Roll with the punches, Potter. If all goes wrong, you can get out of here in three days._

Harry opened the door and took a step inside with all his senses straining to find his relatives. He didn't see them anywhere, but that didn't mean anything. No, the important thing was that he couldn't hear them. He couldn't hear anything for that matter. The entire house was silent. This place was never silent when Dudley was home. He was constantly watching tv, listening to music or otherwise making noise. Also, Harry's sixth sense, the sense that always took over when he fought Voldemort, was screaming at him to run away. He'd come to trust his battlefield instincts. The instructions that came from that hidden portion of his mind had saved him more than once. Unfortunately, listening to them just wasn't an option this time. Harry closed the door behind him and cut off the outside world.

The first punch came from his left side through the doorway into the living room. He never even saw Vernon's anvil of a fist before it crashed into the side of his head, lifting him off his feet and throwing him into the wall. The second blow was a massive kick from his opposite side as soon as he landed. _Aaaand Dudley's here too. _With the wind knocked out of him, Harry kept his arms tight around his stomach and tried to make himself as small a target as possible.

Years of neglect and malnutrition had left Harry at only 5'6" (1.66 m) tall and 95 pounds (43 kg), even after having eaten well at Hogwarts over the past five years. He was pitifully thin, and Vernon and Dudley could easily throw him around. He also knew from experience that his lack of fat and muscle put him in grave danger. Every hit wasn't absorbed by fat and muscle. The force of each blow transmitted almost directly to his bones. His reaction to protect his torso was an attempt to protect himself from any potentially fatal injuries. In exchange, he left his head completely open.

The Dursley men saw this and jumped at the opportunity. One would go for body shots, while the other rained blows on Harry's head, and then they would switch. The first few punches and kicks were always the worst. They were still unique. Every impact at that point was separate from every other. Each spike of pain was still new. After six or seven hits and a particularly vicious kick to the back of his head, Harry began to lose any sense of his surroundings. The pain began to blur together and time lost meaning. All Harry knew were the pain, the smell of blood and the sounds of Vernon and Dudley panting above him, while the thudding sound of impacts on yielding flesh filled the house. Harry slowly slipped into unconsciousness, but his relatives weren't done with him yet.

Ten minutes later, Harry was dragged back into reality by a searing pain in his neck and the smell of burning flesh. He tried to arch his back and get away from the pain, but he was held tightly by what felt like thick steel bands. Tortured screams rang out through the house as Harry's eyes opened. Dudley was the one holding him, and the searing pain was the lit end of a cigarette, which Vernon was pressing into the side of his neck.

"**SHUT UP, BOY," **Vernon thundered in his ear, while punching him in the gut. "The neighbors will not hear this, or this will be light treatment compared to what I'll do to you. Now, not a peep out of you. Understand?"

"Yes, Uncle Vernon," Harry managed to gasp out while trying to catch his breath.

"Good." Vernon took a long drag on the cigarette to make sure it was still red hot. "Freaks dare to threaten **me**? I'll show them who they're dealing with." The next burn was right next to the previous one. So close in fact, that the two circles overlapped and started to form a small line. All Harry could do was whimper and squirm. He couldn't move and couldn't yell. All he could do was suffer. The tip was still smoldering, so Vernon took a quick puff and went back to his work.

And so it continued. Vernon burned a full circle around Harry's neck, circle by circle. The whole time, Harry had no other option, but to sit and suffer through it. When Vernon was finished, he straightened up. "Collared like the animal you are. Now they'll all know when they see you. Think they can order me around? They'll think twice now." With that, he threw a massive right cross into Harry's temple and knocked him out.

_-~|O|~-_

Harry woke up in his room to a pounding headache, aches everywhere and an incredible stiffness in his neck. The first thing he tried to do was stretch out his neck and immediately regretted that decision. He gently fingered the burns from yesterday as he tried to decide what to do next. _Home sweet fucking home._

His relatives obviously meant business this year. He would have to leave as soon as possible. The Order was expecting a letter tomorrow, so that might be the best time to leave. He also didn't want to be stuck under Dumbledore's watch. Maybe, he could draw the aurors? That could work. In any case, he still had to survive today before he could do anything else.

As Harry stood up, a wave of dizziness hit him, and it took all his willpower not to throw up. _Oh, it is going to be a loooong day…. Might be a concussion. Damn pigs just had to aim for my head!_ He slowly sat back up. _Slow and steady. _Over the next fifteen minutes, he managed to get himself into a standing position without being debilitated by the effects of yesterday's beating.

Harry staggered downstairs to find Petunia waiting for him with a list of chores. He had to cook meals, weed and water the garden, mow the lawn and a dozen other minor chores. It was going to be nearly impossible to do all this in the condition he was in. He could barely move! How was he supposed to work out in the garden? Before anything else, he needed to collect his wand. It was a good thing he moved it. If he hadn't, it definitely would have been snapped.

Harry slowly and carefully made a light breakfast that would still meet his relatives' standards. _Note to self: mixing hot grease with impaired balance and coordination is a really really bad idea. _As soon as the food was finished, he made his way outside to grab his wand, which he stored under the loose floorboard in his room and he got to work on the chores. Although he worked constantly, he wasn't able to finish all of the work in his current state.

That night, the packages that Harry had ordered at Hogwarts arrived by owl. He opened them up and found that everything fit his specifications perfectly. The packages held three sets of new clothes that actually fit him (all in black), some hair gel, a necklace with a shark tooth pendant and four silver chain bracelets, each with a charm attached. The charms were each held by three circles that were bonded to each other to form what looked like a gyroscope. The charms themselves dangled from smaller chains. They were a lily, a stag and a dog, all exquisitely carved from obsidian, and a full moon carved in painstaking detail from ivory. _Now that these are here, I'm gone. Tomorrow night is the night._

_-~|O|~-_

Harry snapped out of a nightmare and immediately sat straight up. He regretted that motion as he fell out of bed and fought not to puke up the contents of his stomach. Disconnected fragments of his dream started to float to the surface of his mind. Tortured screams. Rivers of blood. So much blood. The glint of light off of blades. And above all, the smell of burning flesh. Constant and invasive, the smell was everywhere as the skin, fat and muscle burned to a crisp.

Once Harry was back in control of himself, he put on some of Dudley's cast-offs. He had a feeling it would be a bad idea to wear his new clothes in front of Vernon. Originally, the clothes had been bought to use to piss off his relatives. That had been done before he knew that they meant business. He might not survive if he wore any of his new clothes today. With those thoughts in mind, Harry headed downstairs to face his relatives.

As Harry entered the kitchen, a heavy hand fell on his shoulder and the backs of his knees were kicked out so that he fell into a kneeling position. The hand dug painfully into the inside of his collarbone and the back of his neck. "Take off your shirt, boy."

Harry did as he was told. He was actually expecting this after not finishing his chores yesterday. The only question was how bad it would be.

The only sound was the click and jingle of Vernon removing his belt. _Shit._

As Vernon drew back the belt, Harry once again heard the buckle jingle.

_No…_

Harry's back exploded in pain as the metal buckle dug cruelly into his right shoulder and dug a path across his back. A yell almost escaped him, but he managed to choke it down. It was only through sheer experience that he managed to stop himself from biting his lip to keep from screaming. He'd learned the hard way that he would bite clear through his lip if he tried that. The one saving grace was that this had happened often enough that his back was tough and calloused.

Apparently, Vernon realized this. "Turn around, freak."

_Fate, you bitch! I'll get you for this!_

Harry saw the buckle flying toward him, and it took every ounce of his willpower not to move, not to run. If he showed even a hint of fear or disobeyed at all, then he would only be punished more harshly, and he honestly didn't know how much more he could take. He was already having a hard time not taking revenge on his relatives.

The belt buckle ripped open his chest and tore a off a strip of his skin. The vivid stripe quickly started bleeding, but Vernon was too busy to notice. He ignored it and continued the whipping. At the end of each lash, he jerked the belt upwards, and that motion was spattering Harry's face with blood as his already massive collection of scars grew.

Each lash was a lance of pain shooting across Harry's body. He'd given in and started whimpering at some point. He would have been screaming, if the wind hadn't been knocked out of him. The lashes didn't fall at the same angle or even the same direction. Some curved upwards instead of downwards or went from right to left instead of left to right. Vernon seemed to be doing his best to overlap the lashes so that the tender cut skin was torn even more.

Harry retreated into his mind. He went there often when he couldn't deal with the outside world any longer. The pain and burdens of the world faded away here, and he could be alone in his mind. He walked through his thoughts and tried to find the source of the cries for him to run or fight back. _Aahh, of course it's coming from the void. _The void was literally an absence of thought and structure in Harry's mind. It was a hole in the midst of his consciousness. The only way Harry could explain it was to call it his instincts, but he was pretty sure that that was wrong. Satisfied with the state of his mind, Harry settled in to wait out the beating.

By the time Vernon was satisfied, Harry had over thirty new cuts on his chest, which was mangled almost beyond recognition. It was now just a patchwork of red and white. Because of his condition, he was given the rest of the day off lest the neighbors suspect anything.

Up in his room, Harry forced himself to stay standing and to try not to move. Every move he made just moved his chest and back more. He needed to remain still to allow the cuts to scab, and if he lay down or put on a shirt, his skin would scab onto the material. He really didn't feel like ripping all the scabs off later, so he stood looking out the window. All Harry could do was wait for nightfall and plan.


	5. Insanity

Harry Potter, other characters and locations from the Harry Potter series belong to J.K Rowling not me. Other recognizable characters also do not belong to me, and I do not claim ownership of them. I'm just playing around in a world created by others.

"Speech"

_Thoughts_

**/Parseltongue/**

It was time. Darkness had fallen a little over two hours ago. Everything was as prepared as it could get, and Harry had a rough plan prepared. He refused to be stuck under that idiot Dumbledore again. The ancient bastard was right under Voldemort and Bellatrix on Harry's hit list. Unfortunately, the only one who could really keep him from Dumbledore was Voldemort. Harry was currently aiming for the happy medium: a Ministry holding cell.

He'd have to somehow get the aurors to show up. A few combat spells should manage that. After that, he'd probably have to fight a few of them, just to make sure Dumbledore couldn't use his position as Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot to free Harry. _Those training sessions are definitely going to come in handy._ Normally, he'd be worried about Fudge trying to send him to Azkaban, but after the Ministry was forced to admit Voldemort's return, he was fairly certain he could avoid that.

_Ugh… Planning is definitely not for me. Screw it. I'm just going for it. Time to get ready._

If he was going into a fight, Harry would know all of his mobility and flexibility, so he began stretching in every direction he could. The new scabs painfully ripped open and began bleeding again, but it was better for that to happen now rather than later. By the time he was finished stretching, the blood was dripping off his torso. _Might as well make use of this. _The blood was used as war paint to sketch spikes and swirls on the left side of Harry's face and neck. The scent of copper fought to smother him as he inhaled deeply. His only reaction was a particularly vicious smile.

Once the bleeding stopped, Harry threw on a new pair of black cargo pants and a tight black t-shirt. _Idiot wizards. Fighting in robes? Honestly? They'll get themselves killed with all that extra material getting in their way. _The chains and the shark tooth necklace were hidden in a few of the pockets on his pants. Lastly, Harry used some of the hair gel to keep his hair up and away from his eyes. His hair was always messy, but at least now it looked almost intentional. That and the spikes mirrored some of the shapes painted in blood.

Hedwig flew back in the window. With the magnitude of what he was about to do weighing on his mind, Harry had penned a quick letter to each of his five closest friends as soon as he could. They simply said:

Always remember that I will always be the Harry that you know, the person and friend that you've known for years. Don't believe everything you hear, and watch for my next letter.

Your friend and brother,

HJP

He left Hedwig's cage open. She would need to be able to leave after whatever happened was done.

With that taken care of, Harry grabbed his wand and headed downstairs. He was purposefully going barefoot in honor of Luna. A quick _alohomora_ was all it took to break into the cupboard under the stairs. He stashed his new clothes in his school trunk, and moved outside before the Ministry owl could arrive. On his way out, Harry could a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. Spiked hair that seemed to defy gravity, war paint that was unmistakably blood and black clothes that would blend with the night... He looked like a demon.

_No time to stand around. A spell's been cast. If no one from the Order is on their way yet, they will be soon. I wonder if they'll beat the aurors here. _As Harry stepped outside, the night enveloped him. It was a dark night, with only a sliver of moon in the sky, but the lights up and down the street were illuminating everything in sight. The lights were destroyed with a well-placed and tightly controlled _reducto_ each. _Aurors are now definitely on their way, but this is much better. _It was late enough that all the house lights were off in such a **normal** place as Privet Drive, so the darkness was now as thick as it would get. Harry moved to lean against a nearby telephone pole and wait.

It didn't take long. It couldn't have been two minutes later that a team of four aurors apparated in on his left side. Harry didn't even flinch. "Come out and surrender your wand," one of the aurors called. "Make this easy on yourself." Harry continued remaining as still as a statue.

"Lumos," another auror hissed.

"**Shit! **Reducto! Reducto! Reducto!" Because of the angle Harry had been standing at, the aurors had only been able to see the painted side of his face and had reacted violently. Harry silently whipped up his left arm and mentally called his soul shield and the Sword of Gryffindor to his left hand and arm. The shield deflected all three reductor curses with no problem, as he turned to face the aurors, but he now had a blood-spattered shield wrapped in chains to add to his image.

"Damn it, Savage! Don't aim for his head, keep it non-lethal," another auror yelled at the first.

Savage was about to reply, but was interrupted by three pops signaling incoming apparition. Harry could just see Dumbledore, Emmeline Vance and Bill Weasley off to his left, which put them in the aurors line of sight. Savage saw the new arrivals and started issuing orders, "Proudfoot, get us backup! Dawlish, watch our backs!"

The Headmaster didn't draw his wand and discretely motioned for Bill and Emmeline to do the same. "Harry, what's going on, my boy?"

_Senile old man. _"I'm not your boy. And Savage there just shot three reductor curses at my head with absolutely no provocation. I'm trying to decide whether or not to fight back."

Savage just growled back, "You've been throwing a few reductor curses around the street yourself. We're here to bring you back to your own little holding cell. Make this easy and surrender, kid."

"No. No, I don't think I will. And you might as well not even bother Headmaster, nothing you say is going to change what I'm going to do," Harry finished just as Dumbledore opened his mouth to advise Harry to give himself up. Before he could ignore Harry and give his advice anyway, three more pops sounded. Proudfoot had returned with two more aurors.

"This pair was ready, and a dozen more are gearing up now. They'll be here within a few minutes," he reported.

Savage just nodded, and looked at the members of the Order of the Phoenix wondering whose side they were on. "Give yourself, Harry, or we will be forced to assist the aurors," Dumbledore said, answering Savage's question.

Harry just remained in a crouch with his wand in his right hand and the Sword of Gryffindor in his left. His buckler was strapped to his left arm, but wouldn't impede his motion as he could banish and summon the buckler at will. "Well it seems we are stuck in a standoff," Harry said with a small chuckle. "Who's it going to be? I know at least three of you are just waiting to hex me. Which one of you will try first?"

Harry's nerves were strained to breaking, and his senses were in overdrive trying to detect everything around him. He was acutely aware of each person's breathing pattern, how far they were from him and where the tenseness was in their bodies. Any slight shift, any minute change would tell him where an attack would come from. Under all this, his instincts were screaming for him to start throwing spells and to get himself out of danger. Below his normal instincts, there was something else coming from the void that he had never noticed before. Something that was calling for blood. He was confident he could drop three or four of the aurors, plus Bill and Emmeline. Dumbledore, Savage and Dawlish were his main concerns. It was into this tense and dangerous standoff that Hedwig flew.

Hedwig. She was Harry's familiar. His closest confidant. She had been with him since day one in the wizarding world, and she had always been there for him. Her support was one of the only things that kept him alive through the Dursleys' abuse. He confided all his thoughts and feelings in her, even the things that not even Ron and Hermione knew. They had spent days outside together, with Harry watching her soar and occasionally even flying with her. She was his oldest friend.

The white shape was immediately spotted, and Savage snapped off a _confringo _that sped right for her. _NO! No, no, no, nononononononono. _"Accio Hedwig," Harry desperately called. If his spell reached her in time, it could pull her out of the way of Savage's curse. Relief flooded Harry as Hedwig jerked and started to move faster. At the last second, the blasting curse hit Hedwig's outstretched wing, and in a flash of light and heat, Harry's beloved familiar was reduced to a shower of blood and bits of flesh.

Several things immediately happened. The first was that Harry's buckler contorted and with a shriek from the twisted metal, it shattered. Dumbledore immediately recognized that the buckler must have been a soul shield and the implications. Harry no longer had a shield around his soul, and the only thing that could do that was extreme emotional trauma, which could leave him vulnerable to emotional and psychological damage. This was not good. In fact, this was very very bad.

The second thing that happened was that Harry retreated into his mind to try to deal with what had just happened, and he was immediately stopped. "There's no point in running Harry. You know what we have to do," said a voice.

It was the voice that came from the void. The voice that Harry had come to call his instincts. Harry called out in his own mind "Who are you?"

"I'm the one who handles all the situations that you can't. I'm the one who suffers the pain from the Dursleys. I'm the one that killed Quirrell and the basilisk. I'm the one that saved you and Sirius from the Dementors. I'm the one who dueled Bella. We're in your mind, Harry! Who do you think I am?"

"Our mind… You're me," Harry replied.

"No. I'm not you. You and I are pieces of Harry Potter, the boy the world sees. Make no mistake though, we are different."

"And you're offering to handle this?"

"Yes."

"If I'm Harry, what shall I call you?"

"Call me Fenrir."

"Okay Fenrir… Do it. Take care of them. Especially that bastard, Savage."

"You've got it kid, but remember I'm also the one that threw a _crucio_ at Bella."

"Insanity has its perks, and I'm beyond caring. I think I qualify as insane. I'm currently talking to myself. Do whatever you feel is necessary, but try to avoid the Unforgivables."

"Sit back and enjoy the ride," Fenrir said as he took control.

The tension flowed out of Harry's muscles, but the Sword of Gryffindor and his wand never wavered. His breathing slowed and was perfectly steady. He looked over at Savage, but his face was entirely blank. The only thing that gave away his intentions was that his eyes glowed with unholy fire. "Headmaster, what is the punishment for killing another wizard's familiar?"

"There is no immediate punishment, Harry, but you do have the right to challenge him to a duel with rules and stakes of your choosing," Dumbledore answered incredibly reluctantly.

"Come off it, Dumbledore! The boy isn't that stupid," Savage laughed.

"Auror Savage, I challenge you to a Wizard's Duel t-"

"I accept," Savage shouted interrupting Harry.

"Not even going to hear my terms first? That doesn't seem very smart."

"I don't care, kid. It doesn't matter what the terms are."

"Okay," Harry said while lowering his head. "Wands only. All spells are allowed. This is a duel to the death." The light from the lumos spell left most of Harry's face in shadow, but illuminated his vicious smile. Auror Savage blanched before regaining his false bravado.

"That doesn't change anything."

"I can't let you do thi-" Dumbledore began, before he was cut off by Harry.

"You can't stop me Headmaster. Although you might want to put up a few wards so we aren't seen. Auror Proudfoot will you start the duel?"

Dumbledore began putting up a few obscuring wards, and by the time he turned back, Harry and Auror Savage had lined up. Harry had banished the Sword of Gryffindor and stood with his wand pointed at his feet.

"Are both duelers ready?" After receiving affirmative responses, Auror Proudfoot fired off a loud bang from his wand. Savage immediately began casting a bone breaking hex, but he was never able to finish the spell. Harry moved so quickly that the onlookers could barely follow as he whipped his wand upward and cast a _deprimo_. The spell connected with Savage's bicep and blasted his arm off. Savage was reduced to screaming and grasping at his stump of an arm.

"Pick up your wand, Savage," Harry said with a vicious smirk. "I'm not done with you yet." Savage just ignored him in favor of crying over his arm. "Fine. Your choice. Inflammare." Harry deliberately compressed the spell so that it would burn hotter in a confined space. In this case, it started at the bottom of the auror's robes and quickly spread to his legs. From there, it travelled to the rest of his body.

The smell of burning flesh, so familiar from Harry's dreams, filled the air. It was an alluring aroma of roasting beef, the charcoal-like smell of the skin, a hint of musk and the metallic overtones of the auror's boiling blood. It was irresistible. Savage rolled on the ground trying to put out the fire, but it was no use. He frothed the mouth, rolled around, screamed and pleaded, but he might as well not have bothered. Harry just watched with a gleeful smile on his face.

Inside his own head, Harry was wondering if this were necessary. Was Fenrir overdoing it? Despite these thoughts, Fenrir was a part of him, the part that had kept him alive on multiple occasions. Harry had always followed his instincts, and he saw no reason to fight against him now.

Savage's spine-chilling wails were tapering off at this point. The body would still burn for a while longer, but the life was seeping out of his eyes. The fire was so beautiful! It rippled in gorgeous hues of red and orange, while it blackened all it touched. The fire spoke to Harry as it burned, and he longed to move closer and bask in its warmth, but he couldn't do that. Not yet. _We cannot leave until our debts our paid. And Voldemort is at the top of that list._

The flames had moved up the body by this point and had consumed the man's eyes, but he didn't protest. He laid there and took it like a true man. Harry's grin was more feral at this point, and his eyes shone unnaturally. As the fire shone from the body's empty sockets, a stray thought surfaced in Harry's consciousness. Fenrir immediately repeated it out loud in a sing-song voice for the crowd to hear, "The lights are on, but nobody's hooome." He then broke down and giggled like this was the funniest thing in the world. The laughter built and built, but that was the aurors weren't going to sit and listen to that.

Proudfoot sent a stunner at Harry, which was quickly followed by an _incarcerous_ and a disarming spell from Dumbledore. The smile froze on Harry's face as he summoned the Sword of Gryffindor and cleaved the spells out of the air. "You've got to love goblin craftsmanship," he said mockingly. The auror that was holding the _lumos_ spell was taken down by a stunner from point-blank range, which extinguished the light.

The flickering and uncertain light picked out portions of Harry's face, but left most of it in shadow. His war paint was making an impression, as was his smile. Dumbledore looked close to panicking, while Bill and Emmeline seemed to want to run away. The aurors weren't in much better shape, but they also wanted revenge. All the combatants stood frozen for a single moment in time before the flurry resumed.

Harry ducked a stunner and ran to his left, while deflecting a full body bind with the flat of his blade. The deflected spell just missed Proudfoot. _Time to use some of those experimental techniques._ Harry threw a silent wandless stunner at Bill. In all honesty, the stunner probably would have knocked him down at best. There was no chance it would stun him. His wandless spells just didn't have that much power, but Bill easily dodged to the left, which was what Harry had been hoping for. The second stunner, which had been fired with Harry's wand, caught Bill directly in the chest. They were using non-lethal spells, so he would return the favor.

It was now Dawlish, Emmeline and Proudfoot vs. Harry. Dumbledore seemed to be keeping out of the way for the moment, but that would probably change soon. Using the shifting firelight, harry hid in the shadows of a row bush and waited for a clean shot. Slowly and carefully, he circled around the bushes until he was behind Dawlish and had Emmeline in his line of sight. He snapped off a quick _incarcerous_ at Emmeline and sent a wandless body bind at Dawlish. Both immobile targets were stunned before they could regain mobility, but his maneuver had left him exposed.

Dumbledore and Proudfoot both sent high-powered stunners at him, which were quickly followed by body-binds and reductor curses at Harry's feet. In a show of skill that Harry was certain he didn't have, he deflected the first four spells and sent three quick stunners at Proudfoot. One was wandless, and one each was channeled through the sword and his wand. As he was blown off his feet by the reductor, Harry saw Dumbledore approaching.

Harry tried scrambled to his feet, but before he could get up he was disarmed by an _expelliarmus_. He let both the wand and sword go, and he stood up to watch the show. His wand arced overhead as was normal, but the sword flew point-first straight at Dumbledore's head. The second before it hit, Harry threw his hand out to his side, and the sword appeared in his grasp. "Come now, Headmaster. You should know better than to disarm a bladed weapon. Especially one that used to belong to Godric himself."

"Harry, what are you doing? Why would you kill an auror? Why put him through so much pain? Resisting the aurors carries grave punishments," Dumbledore said.

"Pain? **PAIN! **You dare talk to me about pain, old man? You placed me in an abusive household and left me there for ten years, without anyone competent watching me! You saw what I looked like in first year! I was obviously malnourished. It's still pretty obvious! And even after seeing that, even after my warnings, you sent me back here every damn summer. Every summer I come back to be beaten and starved! The only reason I made it through was by talking to Hedwig, who was my oldest friend. An owl was my oldest and closest friend! Do you not see something wrong with that? And then that auror has the balls to kill her? My oldest friend who has kept me alive on several occasions? You think **HE **suffered? I killed him quick in a fit of rage! You think he experienced pain? That was nothing. I've felt far worse… And I'll show you worse too. CRUCIO!"

The shock in the Headmaster's eyes was priceless as the spell streaked across the open space and shattered his hastily erected shield. He began convulsing on the ground and screaming, while Harry watched on with that same sadistic grin in place.

_NO! I told you to stay away from the Unforgivables, Fenrir. _Harry fought for control in his own mind.

The effects of the _crucio _began to lessen as Harry fought, and Dumbledore began to breathe more steadily as he bit back his screams.

_He deserves it, Harry. You helped me cast the _crucio _at Bellatrix for killing Sirius. His death is just as much Dumbledore's fault as it is Bella's! Sirius wouldn't have been anywhere near there if Dumbledore hadn't hidden the prophecy from us. If he had trained us in Occlumency instead of allowing Snape to torture us, we could have blocked out the visions. You still feel the beating and burns from yesterday. I know you do. I've been fighting through the pain from them this entire time. Consider this payback. I'm much stronger with your help, Harry. We didn't just split control of the body. We also split control of the magic. Without your support, that magic isn't helping me, and I'll be that much weaker. I need you, and he deserves this. Help me, for Sirius._

_Ggggrrrr…. Fine. For Sirius, but if we work together, then from now on, try to help me out, not force me to follow you._

_Deal._

"Crucio," they both hissed at the same time. Both Harry and Fenrir poured all their magic into the spell. The force didn't just knock Dumbledore to the ground. He landed on the grass where the excess magic tore up the ground and formed a whirlwind of force. His anguished screams filled the night as he suffered under a _crucio _that the Dark Lord himself would be hard-pressed to match.

Harry distinctly heard a crack as he watched the Headmaster writhe. _Must be one of his bones. _A feral grin appeared on his face, but then he heard half a dozen more cracks. _Shit! Apparition! _And a second later, the world went black.


End file.
